prolestari writes

Writing blog for prolestari, formerly lickitysplit. Find me on FFNet and AO3 as prolestari. Main blog @prolestari, and you can find more about me there. 18+ Click here for AO3 Link

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Characters: Fan Changyu, Xie Zheng (Pursuit of Jade) Additional Tags: Smut, Oral Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Bondage, Light Bondage, One Shot 

Summary: Fan Changyu decides to have some fun with Xie Zheng after an argument. Oneshot

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Characters: Fan Changyu, Xie Zheng (Pursuit of Jade) Additional Tags: Smut, Oral Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Bondage, Light Bondage, One Shot 

Summary: Fan Changyu decides to have some fun with Xie Zheng after an argument. Oneshot

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Characters: Fan Changyu, Xie Zheng (Pursuit of Jade), Fan Changning, Sui Yuanqing, Gongsun Yin Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

Fan Changyu is on a mission to find her sister. On her way to Baxia, she encounters a group of soldiers that take her to the Marquis of Wu'an… whose identity she discovers.

Furious with Xie Zheng and desperate to save her sister, she strikes up a bargain with Sui Yuanqing: Changyu will trade herself as a hostage in her sister’s stead.

A canon-divergent AU beginning episode 20-ish.

[prolestariwrites]

Chapter three now posted!

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Characters: Fan Changyu, Xie Zheng (Pursuit of Jade), Fan Changning, Sui Yuanqing, Gongsun Yin Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

Fan Changyu is on a mission to find her sister. On her way to Baxia, she encounters a group of soldiers that take her to the Marquis of Wu'an… whose identity she discovers.

Furious with Xie Zheng and desperate to save her sister, she strikes up a bargain with Sui Yuanqing: Changyu will trade herself as a hostage in her sister’s stead.

A canon-divergent AU beginning episode 20-ish.

[prolestariwrites]

Chapter two now available!

[prolestariwrites]

Saw this going around and thought I'd do it too. I got bingo! lol

Original under the cut.

[prolestariwrites]

read the first chapter of the path ahead and i loved it a lot! looking forward to more! thank you so much for sharing it <33

Thank you so much, you made my day!

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Characters: Fan Changyu, Xie Zheng (Pursuit of Jade), Fan Changning, Sui Yuanqing, Gongsun Yin Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

Fan Changyu is on a mission to find her sister. On her way to Baxia, she encounters a group of soldiers that take her to the Marquis of Wu'an... whose identity she discovers.

Furious with Xie Zheng and desperate to save her sister, she strikes up a bargain with Sui Yuanqing: Changyu will trade herself as a hostage in her sister's stead.

A canon-divergent AU beginning episode 20-ish.

[prolestariwrites]

What's Done Is Done

Fandom: Pursuit of Jade/Chasing Jade Pairing: Xie Zheng/Fan Changyu Rating: Mature

An alternate telling of episode 36

"Forty-five."

The leather is ripping and so is his skin.

"Eighty-three."

He coughs up blood, staring at the dark pool after it splatters on the ground.

"Ninety-four."

It goes from sting to pain to fire. He wonders how much pain a human can take before he dies from agony.

"One hundred one."

How many more? He can't remember. He can't remember anything except the sound of the snap of the lash as it strikes against his back.

"One hundred eight."

He tenses for the next blow, but it does not come. What is happening?

After a moment he tries to move and fails. His hair hangs in strands around his face, and Xie Zheng falls onto his forearms. Everything hurts: his shoulders, his knees, his head pounds, his teeth ache. But it is nothing compared to the screaming that comes from his back.

Vaguely he is aware he is being watched; his instincts as a fighter have not abandoned him completely. But there is no way he could fight right now, so if his uncle decides this is the perfect time to get rid of his ungrateful nephew, there is little Xie Zheng can do.

At least he will die in front of his parents.

"Xie Zheng!"

His mother's voice, raw and beautiful. He looks up through watery vision and the candles on the shelf swim. His head spins, dizziness making him sink lower to the ground. "Xie Zheng!" she says again, and he tries to reach out.

The effort is too much. He collapses, consciousness slipping away as her hands grip him. His name again, a whimper this time, and through his hair he sees his mother kneeling over him. Soft and elegant. His heart tightens.

…

He hears voices. They are hushed as if whispering, and he wishes they would speak up so he can understand. But then his body is on fire, and as a cool hand presses to his fevered face he slips back into unconsciousness.

…

"…the worst of it."

"But when will the bleeding stop?"

"It's slowed enough. The bleeding does not worry me. Any infection will kill him."

"I won't let that happen."

…

The candles are soft. He is on his stomach, and it feels as if he has not moved his limbs in weeks, months maybe. What happened?

When he had been ambushed, the arrow hitting his shoulder and his body covered in slices, he had felt everything. The pain was bitter, keeping him moving, willing him to keep breathing and moving and motivating him not to die. Even when dragged away, he fought against the blackness, sinking into his injuries to find himself.

He must be injured again, but how? His brows draw in as he tries to think, but thinking is too hard. He is thirsty, and he needs to urinate. He needs to move.

"Don't move!"

His mother's voice stops him. That's right, she had been there: and it comes back, the kneeling and the argument, the rocks under his hands and the searing whip against his back. It comes back, and so does the pain.

"Yan Zheng, don't—"

It's too late. He turns his head and vomits.

…

Something soft brushes his face. He opens one eye, wondering if his mother is there. But it is Changyu.

At first, fear grips him. A new, uncomfortable feeling. The Marquis of Wu'an fears no man, and that includes the emperor. He does not fear death or the death of his men. He does not fear making mistakes, because he makes none.

But since meeting Changyu, fear has crept into his life like an unwanted companion. Fear for her, and little Changning, and Lin'an.

There are soldiers. They are waiting for him to fall, and on his uncle's command they are going to kill him. What is she doing here? She will fight, he knows she will, and a new reason to fear has him groaning. She has to get out of there.

"Yan Zheng? Yan Zheng, it's okay. I'm here."

She's here, but she needs to go, but he can't move.

"Shh. You're safe."

Something brushes a tear away. His vision clears a bit and he finds Changyu sitting next to him, stroking his cheek. Pain flares somewhere, it's hard to say where. It seems to be everywhere. He has so much to ask, but first—

"Wei Yan."

His voice surprises him. It comes out like a croak. How long has he been here?

"Shh."

"Danger."

"No. You're safe. We're safe."

He winces. "Where?"

"We're in the capital. At my mansion." She presses a hand to his forehead. "You should be resting."

"How long?"

Changyu shakes her head. "Two days."

Two days, like this? How humiliating.

…

It is two more days before he remembers again. He had been dreaming of flowing robes and soft petals and the scent of sweet osmanthus. It fills his senses as he drifts back to life.

When his eyes open this time, Changyu is asleep. Her head rests on the mattress under tucked arms, her legs curled up to the side. A mixture of guilt and fondness fills his stomach. She has been caring for him all this time. Has she eaten? Has she rested?

He takes a deep breath. The scent of osmanthus, of his mother, clears, replaced with lavender and sage. And her, the soap she uses to wash her hair. The long, dark hair that falls in thick waves down her back. In Lin'an, he would watch her wash it, wringing it out meticulously over the bucket before combing through. He was still injured so he would count the strokes to himself as something to do. Changyu would think he was sleeping, her back turned to him. But rhythm of the combing and her quiet humming would lull him into a half daze.

That is what he likes best about Changyu. She is effortlessly beautiful. So unlike the powdered and perfumed ladies he usually encountered. All he wanted was her soft hair and the smell of good soap.

He moves his arm cautiously, wanting to touch her. The experiment fails spectacularly as pain sears across his back and down to his fingers. Xie Zheng sucks in a breath, and it wakes her.

"Oh Yan Zheng," she breathes, sitting up quickly. "Don't move."

"Changyu." He swallows thickly. "Have you been here all this time?"

Her face softens. "Of course, where else would I be? Try not to move. I'll get the doctor."

"No." Xie Zheng clears his throat. "Just let me… Just tell me. What is happening?"

She looks nervous, but to his relief sinks to sit again. "You've been here a few days. Do you remember being in your uncle's mansion?"

"Yes." Xie Zheng sighs.

"Does it hurt?"

He assesses. It hurts terribly, but the burning has subsided. Now it's just a dull throb that threatens to take his breath away. "Is it bad?"

"Not that bad." She is a terrible liar.

He doesn't know what to say. He needs his generals, get an update on the army and the court. Has the emperor learned he is there? Surely he must have, which means trouble is coming. He has to get up and move.

"Wait here. And if you move, I'll stab you."

Well, that settles that.

…

It is difficult to be a patient. Xie Zheng spends much of his time sleeping, which the doctors assure him is normal and natural and needed for this kind of injury. It will take ten days before he can stand, they say. But the Marquis of Wu'an does not sleep for days on end, so it feels like a failure. He should be able to do in three days what a normal man does in ten.

He isn't typically awake for the dressing changes, but sometimes he is. It is agony feeling the strips pulling away, sometimes sticky with his blood. Then the washing, gentle and soft but still torture. Nothing they do makes any difference. His world is nothing but sleep and pain.

Sometimes it feels as though there is a boulder on his back. He tries to take a deep breath and when that fails, he gets angry.

He imagines what he must look like. The generals come to give reports more regularly now, and Changyu pulls up the blankets at his insistence even though it makes his skin hot and itchy. He doesn't want them to see the mess of flesh or picture the mass of scarring that will replace it. He doesn't want them to know he is in misery.

It is demeaning to be like this. Humiliation is his constant companion. Changyu must spoon feed him like a child, the doctors must change his dressings, the servants must change his bottom clothes.

Had his uncle known? When he handed out such a punishment, did he know it would continue for two more weeks, and beyond? The doctors warn him about using a weapon after this. Three months they say before he can ride a horse. How can he lead his men without a horse? Is he to give commands from a carriage? Maybe this was the plan, to cripple him enough that he loses his position and allows the prime minister to be unrivaled completely.

An angry tear falls down his cheek. Wei Yan had to have known. One hundred and eight lashes are enough to kill, but Xie Zheng is—was—a healthy young man wearing a thick leather coat. It wouldn't kill him, no, but there are worse things.

He knows the whip he had used. Xie Zheng had been on the receiving end before, a bit of misbehavior or slacking at his lessons gaining the attention of his uncle. The punishments were quick, though. No more than a handful of strikes.

He doesn't remember if his father ever hit him. Xie Zheng prefers to think he had not.

"Here." Changyu presses a cup to his lips, and Xie Zheng drinks eagerly. He sighs and lays his head back down.

"Are you okay?" Another tear drips down his nose, and his disgrace is complete.

"Xie Zheng!" Her lips press to his temple. "Please don't be upset."

"I'm not," he says. "I'm angry."

"Oh. Well. That's fine." She sets the cup down and sits on the chair that has been left by the bed. "I'm angry too."

Xie Zheng's mouth twitches. "Are you angry with me again?"

"What? You? No!" She folds her arms. "Wei Yan. When I get my hands on him—"

The thought of her gutting his uncle like one of her pigs makes him to laugh, and laughter hurts. "Changyu," he winces.

"Well, it's true. I'd like to turn that whip on him."

Xie Zheng sighs. "It was punishment."

"It was cruel." She picks at a thread on her dress. "I mean, what is the point? You're a grown man. He just wanted to humiliate you."

It makes him smile to know she understands that much. "It's not the first beating I've gotten from my uncle," he murmurs. Changyu looks at him in surprise and he raises his brows. "What? Didn't you ever misbehave as a child?"

"A child? You mean, he…" Changyu shakes her head vigorously. "A swat on the bottom, maybe. But my parents never used a switch."

That hangs in the air between them for several minutes. Xie Zheng tries to picture Changning in trouble, and someone hitting her. Xie Zheng would take their hand.

He will never hit his children, ever.

…

The hours tick by interminably. His generals bring him intelligence reports and he gives his instructions, but little else happens. He trusts them to follow his orders and he knows he must be patient but the waiting is almost as bad as the pain. At least he is used to pain now.

Gongsun Yin comes to visit him once. He allows that even as he has refused all other visitors. His friend looks him over with pursed lips and Xie Zheng can't help but roll his eyes. "Yes, I know," he mutters.

"Well at least you're not dead," comes the reply.

They speak for hours, sometimes joined by Changyu, once interrupted by Xie Wu. It sounds as though the entire city knows he is there, an open secret that is sure to bring trouble. "There is much gossip about you and the lady," Gongsun Yin says with a chuckle.

"What is there to gossip about?" Xie Zheng grumbles.

"You're staying at a lady's home without a chaperone."

"My wife's home."

"Yes, but no one knows that, do they?"

He can't stand the thought of Changyu being on the receiving end of some crude remarks. In the hours that stretch on, he starts to plan their wedding. Yes, he knows they had one already, but that was as Yan Zheng. This time he will marry her as himself, in front of the gods and the kingdom.

He realizes how little he knows about weddings.

…

The days are filled with the most boring sensations.

Food is nothing more than soups and the occasional soft vegetables, cooked to almost nothing. The doctors say he could choke if he ate meat, so Changyu keeps a strict eye on his diet. He doesn't mind that much because she feeds him by hand.

The breeze through the window brushes against his back. His hair pools around him until Changyu wraps it up into a thick bun on his head. The robes are warm and the bed beneath him is starting to get uncomfortable. He can feel pressure points on his hips.

The boredom threatens almost as much as the injury. There is little to look at and even less to hear, only the servants moving through on whispered steps. Changyu is his companion most often, and they share stories of their youth, of Lin'an, of the battlefield. His favorite are the ones about her family. He does not speak of his own.

A week goes by with this newly found existence. And existence is not what he would call this. He is used to movement, a weapon in his hand, a task to accomplish, a speech to give. Not this wasted time wasting away.

Then, a summons comes.

…

The doctors are arguing but Xie Zheng does not care. There is a lot of shouting, mostly from Changyu, and it makes his head hurt. "Enough," he says sharply.

The room goes quiet. Xie Qi and Xie Wu, who stand on either side of the bed, exchange a glance. "Now," the Marquis of Wu'an says. "Help me up."

"My lord, I don't recommend—"

"Quiet."

He doesn't dare to look at Changyu's face. Xie Qi and Xie Wu each grip him by the arm and pull. And it feels horrible.

Xie Zheng makes a gasping sort of groan. The doctor tries to step in but halts at one dark look from the marquis. The generals steady him on both sides until he is sitting up straight.

His stomach churns. He closes his eyes, praying he does not lose his breakfast.

"Xie Zheng." His name on her lips has his face snapping up to meet hers. She watches with folded arms and a tense look on her face. "You don't have to do this."

He sways a bit. He is filthy, he realizes; eight days and laying on a bed unmoving has him needing a bath desperately. Every bit of his front itches, while the back throbs in protest. This is true torture, true agony. And he can't do a thing about it.

"Leave us."

The doctors scurry off but the rest disobey. Changyu clucks at him and turns to get something as the two men keep him from falling to one side or the other. His sense of equilibrium is certainly confused.

"My lord," Xie Qi says quietly. "Perhaps you should lay back down."

"I can't."

Changyu appears again. "Will you both be so kind as to move him to the stool? If he's going to do this fool thing, we might as well get the sheets changed."

Xie Zheng's face heats but he says nothing. Walking is nearly impossible; Xie Qi and Xie Wu practically drag him the few feet to where a stool awaits, settling him on it and letting him steady himself against the table for balance before letting go. "Come help," she orders, and the two hurry to the bedside.

It should be humiliating to watch them clean his bed, but Xie Zheng can't notice. He is focused solely on not collapsing.

…

They take their evening meal at the table after Xie Zheng has had a long nap. Moving for just those few minutes were enough to take all of his energy, and so spent the rest of the day in a deep sleep.

Changyu eyes him from across the table as he tries to use his spoon. It's as if his body does not remember how to do anything. It's only been a week, he chides himself. This time, he does not miss his mouth.

She huffs at him impatiently. "You are too stubborn."

Xie Zheng nods. "You're right, I am."

"You shouldn't be up like this. You had at least three more days."

He sets down his spoon. "And in two days I am to report to the emperor. Would you wheel my bed there on the back of a wagon?"

Changyu makes a face. "No. You could just… not go."

Xie Zheng shoots her a look that has her rolling her eyes. "You know I can't do that."

"I know you're not healed enough."

"I've been summoned to the palace. If I don't go, the sentence is death. And besides…" He blows on the hot soup before continuing, "They need to see me as I am. They need to see the Marquis of Wu'an."

Thankfully, she does not argue.

That night they share a bed. After dinner she insists he return to resting and he goes gratefully, once more exhausted from his excursion across the room. Tomorrow he will need to walk on his own, and he will need to try on clothes. But that is a worry for tomorrow.

Tonight, he settles onto his side, tilted on one arm. Changyu walks around the room blowing out the lamps until there is just one burning. The room is bathed in moonlight except the dancing flickers of the flame, brightening her eyes.

"Come lay with me," he murmurs.

She slides in next to him, and they lay facing one another, staring. He remembers sharing a bed in Lin'an, and the Zhous outside listening for their activities.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Thinking about you."

Her lips curl slightly. "You should get some sleep."

"Tomorrow, we need to go to the Wei mansion."

Changyu half sits up. "What? Why?"

"We need to perform rites for my parents."

Her mouth falls open and she stares at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Can you lay back down?"

Slowly she does, careful not to bump him. "Why would you go there?" she whispers.

"I want to introduce you to my mother and father."

Changyu's expression softens. "We will one day."

"No. Tomorrow. Before I go to the palace." Sleep is threatening, and he closes his eyes. "We're married but never performed the rites. We need to do that so it's official."

Something soft touches on his cheek. "If you want to, we will go."

But he is already asleep. For once, he does not dream of osmanthus. For once, it is dreamless.

[prolestariwrites]

Kiss Me Again

Fandom: Pursuit of Jade/Chasing Jade Pairing: Fan Changyu/Xie Zheng Rating: Explicit

Fan Changyu sighs as Xie Zheng slants his mouth over hers. He has kissed her before, of course, but this time feels… different. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe because she is kissing him back, or maybe…? Her hands slide along his broad chest, head tilting so he can deepen the kiss.

It takes her breath away. He is solid against her, body firm and unyielding and so powerful, and to think it is hers.

Suddenly overwhelmed, she lets go. She reaches out a hand to grab on to something, anything, and finds the wooden slats of whatever wall they are pressed against. Paper tears as her fingers curl, and then he is there again, covering her hand with his larger one, grounding her in a way only he can.

Her head swims when he unexpectedly pulls away. Changyu takes a steadying breath but before she can come back to herself Xie Zheng is pulling her along again. Her feet stumble a bit but his firm grip keeps her upright, and she grabs onto his forearm and allows him to lead her back to her room.

Everything feels like swimming, and Changyu thinks of home and the stream where she would go fishing with her father, wading into the water. She smiles at the memory, lost in it until she bumps into Xie Zheng.

He sits her on the bed and when she looks up, he is looking around with his hands on his hips. "Didn't I assign you an attendant?" he asks.

Changyu waves her hand. "I dismissed her. I don't need one." He makes that face, that marquis looking face that she is still not used to at all. "Really. I never needed anyone to dress me before. Better the girls work in the infirmary than be here waiting on me."

Xie Zheng makes a noise in his throat but thankfully doesn't argue. Instead, he kneels down and begins to remove her boots, his hands skillful but gentle. Changyu admires his hands as they slide one off, then the other, thinking they are beautiful.

She must say this out loud because he chuckles. "That's the first time I've heard that."

"But it's true." Her arms slide over his shoulders, and he looks up as her bare feet press to the cool wooden floor. They are nearly eye to eye like this, and Changyu fights the buzzing in her mind and the fuzziness on her tongue. "You have many lovely assets."

"Do I?"

He is teasing her, and she frowns. Yan Zheng would not tease her like this. "Your—"

She cuts herself off, remembering his request. Xie Zheng shakes his head. "You are so…"

What? So stubborn? So infuriating? So beautiful?

When the answer doesn't come, she slides closer. She is sitting in a very unladylike position, knees falling open to accommodate his body and fingers stroking his hair as if—well, he had said he belonged to her, didn't he? They married, after all. He married into her family.

"I should have never signed the divorce decree," she blurts out loud.

He looks at her in surprise, and Changyu laughs. How often is the Marquis of Wu'an startled? She squeezes his shoulders as his hands move to her waist. "No, you shouldn't have," he murmurs.

Suddenly she wants to feel him. Her head is light but clear of the buzzing, and everything is sensitive. Her clothes feel too hot and her lips feel dry, and she is itching for another kiss.

Changyu leans in and this time, Xie Zheng meets her. The room is silent except for their breathing and the occasional cricket from outside. He parts her lips with his own and when his tongue slides into her mouth, Changyu shivers. She keeps her eyes tightly closed.

Then he is pushing her back, and for a moment, Changyu hesitates. They are married and this is normal, natural. She knows what happens between men and women, watched plenty of the pigs in her father's pen get on with the business of making baby pigs. But who is this man in her bed? Is it Yan Zheng? Or the Marquis of Wu'an? Neither feel right.

"Don't worry," he whispers against her lips.

And with that, she relaxes.

His mouth drags to her jawline as he begins to untie her robes. Changyu has the sense to know she should feel ashamed, but his lips on her neck and teeth grazing her skin makes her forget all that. He sucks on her flesh and it leaves her aching.

Xie Zheng unwraps the cursed clothing until she is revealed, like a present. A final kiss presses to the slope of her neck before he pulls back. "You're beautiful," he says.

That makes her cheeks heat. Her hands are on his shoulders and she clenches them, gripping the fabric.

"Tell me what you want," he says.

She knows what he means but it feels like such a heavy question. She wants Yan Zheng and Lin'an and a simple life and this, just this, together in bed with her heart beating so quickly. But why not have Xie Zheng? Why not have it all, if he is offering it? Her brows furrow as she thinks. What does she want?

"Kiss me," she whispers.

Changyu nods. She holds on tightly as his hands press to her stomach, almost ticklish as they graze along her sides. He kisses her again, fleeting this time, lips feathery against hers as he traces along the bottom curves of her breasts. Changyu whimpers but he steals that away. His thumbs slide over her nipples and they respond instantly.

She shifts, her robes scratching her back. He kisses his way down her chest and she realizes he is still fully clothed. Somehow that makes this more intense, more intimate. Her eyes close when his breath fans across her breast, then he takes one nipple into his mouth, gentle and soft as he rolls it with his tongue.

Her mouth falls open. The aching between her legs intensifies as he licks one, then the other, tugging with lips and teeth and tongue. Changyu realizes her legs are spread wide to accommodate his body but she can't care, she can't think of anything besides the throbbing that is growing louder and louder. "Xie Zheng," she whispers.

That seems to fuel him on. He leans up to kiss her firmly, and she chases him with her hands and lips when he pulls back. He grips her thighs and pulls them up and apart, and Changyu barely has time to squeak out a surprised protest when his lips press to her pelvis. Then she is groaning, rocking her hips up, not knowing what she needs but that she needs it desperately.

With no hesitation his mouth slides down. His hands keep her legs open as she trembles. Then his tongue is pressing to her body, sliding along her slit, and her back arches off the bed. He licks her slowly, her head rolling to the side as the sensation washes over her. The pleasure is intense, exquisite, and she is both helpless under his touch and emboldened that Xie Zheng is worshipping her.

He drinks from her body before finding the bud that has her groaning. Changyu abandons any sense of propriety and begins to pump her hips, grinding against his mouth as Xie Zheng works the flat of his tongue against her. Pleasure pulses again and again, making her toes curl and her fingers clench into the bedsheet. She can't even imagine how she looks, spread so wantonly and taking such pleasure from him. Yet it doesn't matter, nothing matters now except for the build in her core.

Then it bursts, her legs shaking as her sex contracts with deep, pulsing ecstacy. Changyu has given herself shivers before, in the quiet of the night, but nothing compares to Xie Zheng's mouth working her body. Wetness slides along her labia as he continues to taste her languidly, until finally it is too much and she whispers for him to stop.

His mouth returns to her neck, and Changyu is vaguely aware of some movement between them. Her head is throbbing, and the thought of him fights to surface. Will he take her now? She doesn't know what she wants, but it doesn't matter; moments later something warm and sticky explodes on her leg, and when she looks down she sees he has parted his robes and is working his hand against her thigh.

Xie Zheng curses under his breath. He lays on top of her, and she strokes his hair as she moves in and out of consciousness. Her body is warm and sated and even with his weight being a bit stuffy, she has never felt so at ease.

Eventually Xie Zheng moves, and Changyu is vaguely aware of being turned and the quilt pulled over her. She protests the loss of his body with a mumbled few words against her pillow, but a minute later his body presses against her back. Sighing in contentment, she laces her fingers through his and pulls them around her.

[prolestariwrites]

Hidden Legacy

Fandom: My Journey to You Characters: Gong Shangjue/Shangguan Qian Rating: Mature Tags: Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Eighteen months after the end of the story, Gong Shangjue is on a mission from the Sword Wielder to find out what happened to Yun Weishan—but instead, another woman from his past crosses his path. Seeking protection for herself and the child she claims is his, Shangguan Qian promises to deliver Wufeng to the Gongs and find the answers they seek. Can she finally be trusted now that her life hangs in the balance, or is this another deception as Wufeng begins to close in towards them all?

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[prolestariwrites]

Final chapter now posted!

[prolestariwrites]

Hidden Legacy

Fandom: My Journey to You Characters: Gong Shangjue/Shangguan Qian Rating: Mature Tags: Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Eighteen months after the end of the story, Gong Shangjue is on a mission from the Sword Wielder to find out what happened to Yun Weishan—but instead, another woman from his past crosses his path. Seeking protection for herself and the child she claims is his, Shangguan Qian promises to deliver Wufeng to the Gongs and find the answers they seek. Can she finally be trusted now that her life hangs in the balance, or is this another deception as Wufeng begins to close in towards them all?

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[prolestariwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 10 now available!

[prolestariwrites]

So obviously Febuwhump didn't go as planned. I had some irl stuff come up that kept me away from writing for a couple of weeks. But even though I won't win Febuwhump, I am going to continue it and get it finished.

[prolestariwrites]

Febuwhump Day 9

False memory

TW: Mention of death, child abuse, funeral

Every year, the Gong family celebrates a day of grieving. To commemorate those that were lost in the attack five years ago, everyone from the elders to the servants don funeral attire and gather in the Great Hall, where they conduct a ceremony of remembrance.

Yuanzhi wonders if they’ll ever stop mourning. But he keeps his opinions to himself, because Shangjue takes it seriously. Yuanzhi is ten years old, old enough to know this is not the time or place to make his true thoughts known.

He files into the Great Hall with the others, standing in the front as the head of the Zhi branch. Shangjue stands next to him, steady and stoic as ever, and Yuanzhi tries to imitate him. 

On the other side stands the Sword Wielder, an imposing figure that Yuanzhi has had little interaction with besides bowing in respect whenever they cross paths. His two sons stand with him: Huangyu, the older brother who is good at swordsmanship but not anywhere near Shangjue’s skill, and Ziyu, nearly fifteen and an absolute screw-up. He whispers something to Zishang, another shameful cousin who dared to be born a girl. 

Yuanzhi laughs to himself and raises his chin. Compared to the others in the family, he and Shangjue are clearly the best.

The names of the fallen Jue family members are read, and Shangjue steps forward to lay flowers at the foot of his father’s tablet. His mother and brother are there too, the perfect family taken senselessly by Wufeng. Yuanzhi knows that Shangjue misses them terribly, and he feels for him. Shangjue does not cry. 

Unlike Shangjue, Yuanzhi feels nothing when the names of the Zhi clan are read. His own father’s name comes first. He is a distant memory, one of a large and terrifying man, who only turned his attention to Yuanzhi when he did something wrong. He remembers the sound of his father’s booming voice berating him for misbehaving and taunting him when he cried. He remembers the sound of the strap as it snapped against his back and backside when his crimes were particularly egregious, like breaking a teacup or failing to greet his superiors properly.

The ceremony concludes, and Yuanzhi breathes a sigh of relief. Shangjue goes to greet the elders but Yuanzhi hangs back. Even worse than making small talk is sharing false platitudes of how much he misses his father and what a good man he was. 

Instead, he heads outside, where the air is much cooler. It’s the time of year just before spring, when the last bit of winter air lingers in the morning and the trees are just hinting at green. Yuanzhi wonders how long he’ll need to stay; he is too old for a nursemaid anymore, but his tutors keep him on a tight schedule. Perhaps he can sneak away and get some sword practice in before one guardian or another comes looking for him.

He starts to wander around the side of the building, trying to look nonchalant, when he comes across Ziyu and Zishang locked in a whispered conversation. They must have had the same idea to sneak out, but now he is curious about what they are doing. Even though he is tall for his age he easily slips behind a wooden post to listen.

“I don’t think he even has feelings,” Zishang says. “His own mom and brother were killed, and he found them! And he doesn’t even cry or anything.”

“He did when it happened, jiejie,” Ziyu replies. “I remember that.”

“Do you? I didn’t think he even cried as a baby.”

They erupt into giggles as Yuanzhi balls his hands into fists. Are they talking about Shangjue? They must be, and he is about to step out and tell them both off when Ziyu says, “What about Gong Yuanzhi? Always hanging around him, even after what happened. Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“Strange how?”

“You know, because of Lang. Does Shangjue even know?”

“He must know,” Zishang whispers. “How could he not?”

Yuanzhi frowns deeply. What are they even talking about? What could he possibly have to do with that day, and Lang’s death? Yuanzhi was barely five years old. 

They continue chatting but he thinks back to that day, a blur in his memory. He remembers the bells that echoed in the valley signaling danger, and his Nanny rushing him to the cave. He remembers the confusion and being out of breath. But he does not remember Lang.

Instead of confronting them, Yuanzhi begins walking back to his own household, deep in thought. He knew that Lang had left the safety of the cave to find his mother, and both had met their demise when an assassin arrived in the Jue household. His brother had told the story of finding their bodies, and Yuanzhi had gathered the rest of the details from stories from the adults. What did a little kid have to do with any of that?

He wonders about Lang, as Yuanzhi often does. Would they have been friends? He likes to think so; he likes to think Shangjue would still have taken him under his wing, and even though he had a younger brother he still wanted a younger cousin around too. Yuanzhi would sometimes pretend that Lang was there, another older brother to play with and go riding and take meals together. 

His footsteps pause on the walkway as something occurs to him. Lang left the cave. How did he get out?

Yuanzhi tries to think of the place. Green Jade Guardians are stationed at the doors, and surely that day Yellow Jade Guardians had arrived to fortify the entrance. There is only one way in and out from the cave, which in reality is several large openings all intricately connected. Lang would have had to get past the guards and the locked door. Was there a distraction of some sort? Had Wufeng found them?

He pivots suddenly, heading across the yard towards the Jue household. If anyone would know, it was Shangjue. 

[prolestariwrites]

Febuwhump Day 8

Hunger

Gong Yuanzhi holds his stomach. It’s been hours since breakfast, having no time to eat all day with the investigation. But he can’t bring himself to eat.

He looks across the cell at the tray that had been left for him. Being a prince of the Gong family, the meal was sufficient enough. He knew without looking the bread would be fresh and free of any bugs, the cheese would not have mold, the soup hot and flavorful. But it is a prisoner’s meal, and Yuanzhi can’t bear to eat it.

His stomach growls uncomfortably. Damn Ziyu and damn the elders and damn everyone who put him in this position. If anyone was half as competent as they pretended, the lying servant would have confessed by then.

Who could have framed him? Who would possibly gain? His eyes narrow as he presses his head back against the stone wall. Shangjue had been right as always. There is no one to trust now that the Sword Wielder was dead.

Gong Hongyu had been an old fool of a man. He was slow to act and even slower to make decisions. Even his own son did not respect him, and every time the Sword Wielder had to discipline Ziyu it was as shameful as it was humiliating. But Shangjue said he was to be respected, and in truth other than the elders he was the highest in their order. Yuanzhi believed in this much. He would never, ever have poisoned the Sword Wielder, or allowed him to be in a position to be harmed. He would have given his life to protect the man.

His eyes go back to the dinner on the ground. A sip or two of the broth would surely be sufficient, but Yuanzhi can’t. He refuses. He is not a prisoner, and this place and this food is not worthy of him.

He grits his teeth as he remembers his brother’s words. Yuanzhi had expected Shangjue to support him, and giving him so easily to the other side makes his chest clench. He understands that Shangjue must remain neutral, but how? How could he do that to him? 

A wave of nausea hits, and Yuanzhi jumps to his feet. He stalks over to the tray, calling for the guard. The guardians assigned to his cell appear a moment later. “Yes, Young Master?”

Yuanzhi picks up the tray and hurls it at the bars. “Do you think I am some ordinary prisoner?” he shouts. “Do you suppose I would be happy to eat your scraps like some kind of animal?”

The guards exchange a glance, obviously unsure. “Sir, we can get you–”

Yuanzhi grabs the bars and gives them a shake. “You can’t do anything for me!” A tear forms on his lashes and he dashes it away. There is a crunch beneath his feet, and he realizes he’s stepped on the bowl and broken it into pieces. But Yuanzhi doesn’t care. He won’t eat until he’s been delivered from this cell. “I take my meals with my brother,” he spits out at the two guards. “Until my brother comes to let me go, I won’t eat.”

It’s a silly promise, and Yuanzhi immediately regrets it. But his temper has spoken, so he takes his seat again on the hay-filled mattress and sits, waiting for Shangjue or his fate. Either way, at least he won’t be hungry anymore.

[prolestariwrites]

Febuwhump Day 7

Forced to hurt another

TW: Injury, dislocated shoulder

Yuanzhi spurs his horse on, keeping pace with Shangjue. Up ahead, the deer they are chasing crashes through the thicket, and he grins to himself. It is wounded badly, based on the puddles of blood that dot the ground. It’s just a matter of time before the animal loses enough blood to collapse, and the prize will be theirs.

“Yuanzhi-didi!”

The tone in Shangjue’s voice is enough to make him pull sharply on the reins. But Shangjue does not stop in time: the sharp dip in the ground comes too quickly, and Yuanzhi watches in horror as his brother goes over the edge.

“Ge!” He scrambles from the saddle and runs to where Shangjue disappeared. Looking down, he sees his brother in a heap on the ground, the horse taking off through the trees. “Ge, ge, hold on,” Yuanzhi calls. Carefully he picks his way down the embankment, skidding as the rocks slide under his boots.

“I’m fine.” Shangjue sits up gingerly just as Yuanzhi reaches him. 

Yuanzhi helps him lean up, providing support as he looks him over. A few scrapes and cuts from the fall, but nothing looks broken. He is bleeding from the side of his forehead, and when Shangjue winces, he wonders if there will be a concussion. “Ge, take it easy,” he murmurs.

“Didn’t see the edge until it was too late,” Shangjue says. He winces again, making Yuanzhi’s stomach flip.

“It’s okay. I’ll go find your horse, and then–”

“Wait.” Shangjue holds up a hand, making him pause. “I need you to do something first.”

“Of course.”

“My shoulder.” Shangjue jerks his chin to the side. “It’s dislocated.”

Yuanzhi’s eyes go wide as he takes a closer look. He finally notices how his arm hangs limply at his side, and Shangjue holds onto his forearm, bracing it against his chest. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Shangjue continues. “But you need to put it back.”

“Put it back?” Yuanzhi’s voice goes high pitched. “What do you mean?”

Shangjue huffs impatiently. “It hurts. You need to put it back. I don’t have the strength to do it myself.”

Yuanzhi reaches out to his shoulder before he hesitates. “I don’t know what to do.”

Shangjue grits his teeth. “Help me lift my arm.”

Yuanzhi nods and positions himself behind his brother. Shangjue gives a sharp hiss as he raises his left arm, the appendage looking awkward. “Now pull,” he says. “Up and hard, as fast as you can.”

His hands shake as he grips Shangjue’s arm. “Won’t that hurt?”

“Yes. But it will help.”

Tears well in Yuanzhi’s vision. “I can’t, ge… What if I do something wrong?”

“Yuanzhi!” He jumps at the tone, the one Shangjue only uses when he’s in trouble. “Stop doubting yourself. Now pull.”

Yuanzhi nods. He digs his fingers into Shangjue’s arm and pulls, yanking it high with a snap. Shangjue lets go a shout of pain, and Yuanzhi immediately lets him go. “Ge, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Shangjue is panting, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s fine,” he huffs. “That worked.”

Unable to answer, Yuanzhi nods. He dashes the tears from his eyes as Shangjue looks at him through narrowed eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asks sharply.

Yuanzhi dashes the tears away. “Sorry,” he replies quickly. “I was worried.”

Shangjue gives him a weary look. “You’re already twelve. You’ll be running the clinic soon. You should not be upset.”

Shame floods him, his cheeks going hot. “Yes, ge,” he mumbles.

[prolestariwrites]

Febuwhump Day 6

Soul Bond

TW: Sex, Dubious consent, Omegaverse, Incest

Something is wrong. Yuanzhi couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but something feels off.

He walks up the steps to Shangjue's private building, frowning to himself. It is the time when Shangjue will go into seclusion, and do whatever cultivation happens behind those closed doors. He doesn't know exactly what goes on inside; ever since his brother returned from the trials, he had kept it a secret, the only secret that lived between them. But it is important enough that he trusts Yuanzhi to stand guard, so he takes his duty seriously.

Yet this time... Yuanzhi presses his hand to his stomach. He's felt off all day, maybe too much sun or not enough water. But he had had a filling breakfast and plenty of herbal tea, with provisions prepared for the forty-eight hours he would stand guard outside of the building. It is a cloudy day, the sky gray and air sharp, a storm certainly on its way. Although it is warm, it is not overly so.

He stops at the top of the steps and thinks. It can't be the miasma, he has taken his Elixir. It's not a poison, he stopped experimenting a week ago to get it out of his system.

No matter what it is, he'll just have to suck it up. Shangjue goes into seclusion once a season, and he relies on him to keep anyone from entering. The servants and guards have already been dismissed. 

He bends a bit to peek inside the open doors. Yuanzhi catches sight of Shangjue arranging something out of view. His brother turns and Yuanzhi straightens, waiting for him to give the familiar instructions.

Shangjue appears and moves to the top of the steps. Yuanzhi climbs the rest of the way, ignoring the sweat that breaks out on his brow as he takes them two at a time. "Everything ready?" Shangjue asks.

Yuanzhi nods. "Supplies are here and inside. Everyone is gone from the area."

Shangjue takes a deep breath. "Good. You know what to do?"

Yuanzhi had done this plenty of times before. "Don't let anyone in. Don't come in until it's time. Ignore anything I might hear." He swallows thickly. "Will you be alright?"

"I always am." He tilts his head. "Are you feeling well?"

No, not at all, truthfully. Yuanzhi flexes his hands as he clears his throat, which is parched dry. "I'm fine."

"You look a bit white."

"Just feeling anxious."

Shangjue frowns before looking at the sky. "I don't have much time. Do you sense a threat?"

"No, nothing like that—"

Then it hits, a burning deep inside that flares in a flash up his back and down his arms. Yuanzhi stumbles forward and falls on the steps, reaching out to stop himself from crashing face-first. "Ouch," is all he manages, the wind knocked out of him.

"Didi? What's wrong?" Shangjue is kneeling beside him, his hands on his shoulders. "Quick, can you stand?"

"Something..." A wave of dizziness passes over him, and Yuanzhi falters. His brother catches him just in time before he collapses. 

Shangjue pulls him to sit, his hands on his face as he checks him over. "Look at me," he says sternly. 

It's all he can do to make his eyes focus. "It's like heat," he chokes out. "I feel like I'm on fire."

Shangjue's brows draw together. He grabs Yuanzhi's wrist, checking his pulse, as Yuanzhi pulls at his robes. If he could just get the top layer off, then maybe he can breathe a bit easier.

He shrugs off the outer coat and yanks on the collar of his inside robe. Suddenly Shangjue sucks in a breath and drops his hand. "No," he breathes. "No, this can't be."

"What?" Yuanzhi's head swims as he tries to bring Shangjue into focus. "What's happening to me?"

Shangjue curses under his breath. Then he does the strangest thing: Shangjue leans in towards his neck, taking a deep breath, as if smelling his skin. Yuanzhi is about to ask him why when he stands and pulls Yuanzhi to his feet. "Come inside. Quick, before anyone sees you."

The world is a blur as he is standing and then nearly dragged inside. The room is as familiar as his own, Shangjue's bed on one side and the sitting area on the other. He knows there is an extra mat in the cupboard for when he stays over, and that his clothes will be arranged neatly in the wardrobe behind the screen. He knows where to find more incense and where the candles are kept and how many books are on the shelf, having sat there hundreds of times in the past twelve or so years.

But now the room is strange, shadows tilting as he sinks to the floor. "Brother," Yuanzhi gasps. "I need water."

"Get to the bed," Shangjue orders.

"But—"

"Now!"

The tone can only be obeyed. With shaking limbs, Yuanzhi scrambles to the bed, pulling himself onto the mattress and rolling onto his side. His stomach hurts, aching for something that isn't food or water. His arms and legs are heavy, and he realizes he is drenched in sweat. Outside, thunder rolls in the distance. Why is it so hot?

There is a clink next to him as a jug is placed on the floor. "Water," Shangjue says. "In case you need it."

He is too on fire to do anything but groan. Yuanzhi turns his head, eyes shut tightly, when he tastes something delicious.

It's not exactly taste; he can feel it on his tongue, but it's a scent. Earthy, fresh, like the forest. Soothing. He takes a deep breath, then another. The ache inside him intensifies, but Yuanzhi rolls on to his stomach and presses his face to the bedsheet. "What is this?" he gasps. 

He takes another long breath when he is wracked with chills. His body shudders violently, leaving him panting with pain. "Gege," he groans. 

"Stay here," Shangjue says. There is something in his voice, and Yuanzhi turns towards it. "Don't move."

Footsteps mean he is leaving, and Yuanzhi reaches out. But he starts shaking again, harder this time, and as his fever flares he passes out.

===

Shangjue sits at the window, ignoring the wet sprinkles landing on his arm. It is wide open to the rain, the chill it brings to the air making him shiver. But in the end it feels good on his heated skin, and the fresh air helps with the suffocating scent inside the room.

He glances over his shoulder to where Yuanzhi sleeps. He's been out cold for six hours; six torturous, long hours, during which Shangjue mostly meditated to keep his mind away from his brother. Eventually he needed to move, and after having a bit of tea, had flung open the window and let the rain help him feel refreshed.

As soon as he steps back inside, however, the itch returns. Heat rolls off his skin in waves, where he swears he could see steam. The worst is yet to come—his rut takes a good twelve hours to fully come alive—but for now he can ignore it. Mostly.

The wind picks up, sending a gust of rain into the room, and reluctantly Shangjue closes the window. At once the air feels stifling. He has stripped down to just his trousers, his skin itchy like a sunburn. He sinks to the floor under the window and stares across the room.

It is growing dark, the sun well set and the candles low. How much longer will his brother sleep? If the gods are good, until he is out of danger, but Shangjue knows that is a foolish hope. All he can do now is wait, and hope he can hold it together.

In the dim light there is a noise. A sweet scent trails through the room, clinging to his skin like sweat. Shangjue swallows with some difficulty. He watches as the outline of Yuanzhi rolls over, hears him moan. He closes his eyes at the whisper. "Ge?"

"I'm here," Shangjue calls over quietly.

"Where are you?"

The silhouette sits up, and Shangjue shudders. "Don't move," he warns. "Try not to move."

"I'm sick." Yuanzhi presses his palm to his forehead. "I must have come down with something."

"Didi—"

Yuanzhi makes a noise and doubles over. He sinks back to the mattress, clutching his stomach. "What's happening to me?" he gasps. "This hurts, this burns like fire."

Shangjue's lips part as he tries to breathe through his mouth. "You're in heat."

"What?"

"You're an omega."

There is a pause, another shuffling that sends another wave of sticky sweet. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How long have you known?"

Yuanzhi takes a deep breath. "I didn't. I couldn't."

"Most people know by the time they are fifteen. You're nineteen now."

"I didn't know!" Yuanzhi's voice comes out as a strangled whine. "Not for sure." 

There is a heavy silence before Yuanzhi rolls. "This hurts," he complains. "Is this what you do every time you lock yourself away? You go through this?"

"Not quite the same." Shangjue grits his teeth. "And would you stop moving? Every toss and turn and I can smell you."

He senses his brother freeze. Good, let him be scared. He should be. What was he thinking, keeping this secret?

"You're an alpha then," Yuanzhi says quietly. 

"Most of us Gongs are."

Yuanzhi makes another noise, almost a whimper. "What's going to happen to me?"

Shangjue shakes his head. "Nothing. You're going to stay over there and I'm going to stay here and we're going to wait this out."

"But I didn't do the trial. I shouldn't be—"

"Stop moving!" Shangjue bangs his palm on the floor, the loud slap resounding in the room. "If you don't stop moving I will tie you to that bed." The idea makes him salivate, and he shakes his head to clear it. "Stay still and quiet. When this is over we will figure this out."

Thankfully Yuanzhi obeys. The only sound in the room is his erratic breathing. Shangjue leans his head back against the wall, slowly counting until his heartbeat slows down. He can do this. He can make it through this.

Except every moment that ticks by, Shangjue becomes more aware of Yuanzhi's presence. His breathing aligns with his brother's; their heartbeats probably sync as well, if he could get close enough to hear. The room fills with the omega's scent, and no matter how much tea he takes he can't escape it; it fills every sense, slowly suffocating him. He opens the window again, leaning against the frame with white knuckles as he breathes in deep gulps of cold air. 

"Ge," Yuanzhi moans. 

Shangjue bows his head. "Quiet, Yuanzhi-didi."

"It's too hot. I can't... I can't breathe."

He winces. This is part of it, he knows from his reading; the heat, the craving, the desire to take and please and care for the omega. His ruts were always two days filled with sweat and pain and a piercing longing for something he could not name. But now that there is an omega nearby...

Get a grip. "It will pass," he says through gritted teeth.

Yuanzhi sinks from the bed to the floor. Shangjue turns to see him sway for a moment, and then to his dismay Yuanzhi begins to crawl towards him. His brother is panting as he makes his way across the room, and Shangjue moves back against the wall. "What are you doing?" he hisses. "Don't come near me!"

His brother stops, then shakes himself. "You're right. Damn it all. What am I doing?" He wipes his brow with one arm. "I'm sorry."

"Go back to the bed. Don't get out again."

"I can't lay there anymore, it smells like—"

"Yuanzhi! Do as you're told!"

He watches as Yuanzhi stands, unsteady on his feet. He stumbles back to the bed and collapses on the mattress, pulling the curtain down around him and rolling so his back is to the room. Shangjue sighs in relief as the first knife begins to twist in his core.

===

Yuanzhi opens his eyes. His head hurts like he had too much to drink, his tongue feeling fuzzy, his throat sore. He tries to swallow and is only partially successful; reaching out, his hand feels for the table next to the bed where there is hopefully some water.

His hand grips a jug and Yuanzhi rolls a bit to take a sip. The water is like a drug, and he finds himself gulping great swallows of it, drops rolling down his cheek and chin and wetting the front of his robe. It's nowhere near enough, and when the jug is empty he flops onto his back, catching his breath.

Pain seizes his stomach, and he curls against the cramp. It's like a hot knife in his core, but unlike anything he had ever felt before. His vision swims as fever takes over, and all at once he is pulling off his robes, kicking off boots and socks and pushing down his trousers. Anything to escape the unbearable heat of it all.

When he is left in nothing but his undershorts, it's a bit easier to breathe. He sits on the edge of the mattress, holding his throbbing head and wondering what to do next. Remembering that Shangjue had ordered him to stay in bed, he looks up to see where he is.

It's dark, well after midnight by his calculation. The candles burn low but cast enough light that he can see Shangjue laying on a bedroll under the window. The window was left open enough that a breeze lifts the curtains, the faint scent of rain telling him it is still drizzling outside.

One particular gust comes through and Shangjue stirs. Just as he does, that scent returns: rich, smooth, like a heavy incense or spiced black tea. It's delicious, and his stomach rumbles for more than just food. He needs to taste it.

Yuanzhi is only marginally aware that the scent is coming from his brother. He slowly stands, swaying for a moment before he finds his balance. Then his bare feet pad quietly against the floor as he makes his way closer.

Shangjue does not stir. He looks peaceful in his sleep, and when Yuanzhi is standing over him, he smiles. Carefully he kneels down next to him, his body almost moving on its own. He feels marginally better even though at the same time his craving kicks into high. His mouth is practically salivating, and Yuanzhi swallows thickly as he licks his lips.

Leaning down, he closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath as he presses his face to Shangjue's neck. The scent grows heady, spicy, a hint of salt touching his lips.  

Yuanzhi drops his head on his shoulder. Something clenches deliciously inside him. He places a palm on Shangjue's chest, the under layer of his robe laying open. Skin to skin feels electric, his brother's body slick with sweat. Shangjue stirs slightly but does not wake.

Panting now, Yuanzhi climbs over him. His cock starts to rise, pleasure making him shiver as he lowers himself onto Shangjue's body. He feels almost drunk, the room spinning as he breathes in again and again. Shangjue's body is hard and solid beneath him, and with his hands planted on either side of him, he begins to rock his hips.

His erection grows full as he grinds against Shangjue. It's nowhere near enough to satisfy him; Yuanzhi knows instinctually he needs much, much more to feel fulfilled. But for now it's enough to take the edge off, and he presses a kiss to Shangjue's heated shoulder. His tongue darts out to taste, salty and sticky.

He feels Shangjue take a sharp breath. "What...?" he whispers, then groans. Yuanzhi grins as he presses his lips to Shangjue's neck just as he feels his brother’s cock stiffen against his thigh. He tilts his hips so they can rub together, his shorts and Shangjue's pants forming a few layers of fabric between them.

But it feels good, so good. He licks along Shangjue's neck, humming in approval.

He works his body furiously as Shangjue kneels up. Shangjue grips his legs and opens them, and then he is grinding against him again. Yuanzhi feels his orgasm approaching and arches his back, drawing his knees up and back to give as much access as the barriers will allow. Shangjue reaches under him and takes him by the rear, tilting him up so he can jerk into him a final time.

Then he is coming, and Yuanzhi is lost to it; it doesn't seem to want to end, his hand getting coated in his seed as it erupts again and again. Dimly he is aware that Shangjue must also be coming, his moans quick, short bursts between breaths as he jerks once more. Something wet and slippery slides down his thighs, and at first he thinks it must be Shangjue's seed; but he is still wearing his trousers, so Yuanzhi dismisses the sensation, his hand slowing to a stop.

Both brothers take a moment to catch their breath before Shangjue is scrambling away, sliding back to sit against the wall and hold out an arm. "Stay back," he says. 

"Ge," Yuanzhi moans. The ache is still there, despite the orgasm, and his skin is practically on fire. 

"I can't," he pants. "We can't."

Yuanzhi feels tears fill the back of his throat. He stares up at the ceiling, the candlelight dancing in golden patterns on the tile.

===

Shangjue nibbles on a bit of bread, watching the sun slowly rise. He is sweating profusely now, his rut fully active, breaking out along his skin like hives. It's only with deep concentration does he keep himself from being anywhere near Yuanzhi.

He had been a fool to bring him inside. What had he expected to happen? He had immediately recognized the scent of Yuanzhi's heat, the taste of the omega stroking the most primal part of him. In his panic he had thought to only get him somewhere safe, away from any alphas in the area that might sense his presence. Instead he had locked him inside with the worst predator of them all.

Shangjue takes a shaky breath. He risks a glance towards his brother. Yuanzhi is sitting by the window this time, leaning on his side with his legs curled up to his chest. He shakes with fever, and Shangjue's insides twist, wanting to help. His own rut is terrible enough; he can't imagine the craving that Yuanzhi must be feeling.

"Didi," he says quietly. "Eat something."

Yuanzhi shakes his head. "I can't," he chokes out. "It'll make things worse."

Shangjue sighs. "We have thirty-six hours left. We can survive this."

"I can't." His brother's voice breaks. "I can't stand it. It's worse than any poison I've ever taken." He clutches his arms tightly, his head bowed. "Please, ge, can we—"

"No." Shangjue quickly takes a gulp of his tea. "What's done is done. No more."

"But why?"

He looks up again to see Yuanzhi watching him in turn. "Alphas and omegas, right? That's the natural course of things."

"It's not... appropriate." Shangjue wonders how he can explain. "If we... I might not be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

"Didi," Shangjue hisses. "Do you understand anything? There has not been an omega in the Gong family in generations."

There is a long silence before Yuanzhi asks, "What does that mean for me?"

"I don't know," he admits. "You're special. The family used to have both, but the omegas grew less and less. With you here now, the elders—"

"I don't care about them!" Yuanzhi moans.

His voice strikes a nerve inside Shangjue. He had always been protective of his brother, probably to a fault if he's honest. But hearing the pain in his voice now nearly sends him into a frenzy, and he must take several minutes to compose himself. "There's no telling what will happen," he replies eventually. 

"I can't do this." Yuanzhi leans forward, pressing his face to the floor. "I can't stand it."

"Didi..."

"It's too hot. Too much. I can't take this anymore."

Shangjue's throat bobs as he swallows. The rain had left the air a bit humid, and with Yuanzhi now on his stomach, he looks enticing, intoxicating. Shangjue's head swims as he watches him move around to find a comfortable position, finally drawing his knees up with his back exposed to the ceiling. "Didi," he sighs. "Don't... don't do that."

"I need something..." Yuanzhi's words are slurred, as if he had been drugged. "Please, ge! I can't, I can't."

He closes his eyes, his fingers clenching against the mattress. There is something he could try, but fear settles like a pit in his stomach. Slowly he stands, the shift in the air bringing another delightful wave of the omega scent. It's like honey on his tongue, sweet and inviting, just like his brother.

Shangjue kneels next to him. His cock begins to stiffen, but he ignores it to run a hand along Yuanzhi's back. His brother shivers, arching into his touch. "Ge, ge—"

"Shh. This will help."

He pushes his hair aside and presses his hand to the back of Yuanzhi's neck. He grips him firmly, massaging his fingers into his flesh and Yuanzhi nearly purrs. A sound comes from him that has his body fully erect, and Shangjue's breathing picks up as he massages his brother's neck. "Just lay still," he whispers.

"It's good. It's good."

He had heard this could help: an omega's neck is one of their most sensitive parts, and bearing down on it brings relief. Shangjue starts to tremble as he feels the heat from Yuanzhi's body flare. He wants nothing more than to sink into it, lose himself until the flames completely engulf him. 

Yuanzhi shifts, his thighs opening. Shangjue can see the slick on his thighs, his undershorts clinging to the outline of his body. The scent is everywhere now, drawing him in, and Shangjue has the sudden urge to press his face to his body, to drink him in. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shake away the sight.

"More," Yuanzhi whispers.

Shangjue's shoulders relax as he slides his hands down Yuanzhi's spine. He reaches his waist, gripping the fabric and pulling it slowly back and down his hips. The scent intensifies, his mouth watering, saliva dripping from one corner of his mouth.

Quickly he takes a sharp breath, trying to pull himself together. Yuanzhi tilts his hips, lifting his backside towards him. Shangjue licks his lips and drags his fingertips along his seam. It's wet, soaking wet, making the knife in his core twist. He understands when Yuanzhi gives a whine; he wants it just as much, the feeling of need intensely powerful.

Slowly he presses a finger to his hole. Yuanzhi gasps before he relaxes, and his finger slides easily inside. His body feels like lava, wet heat enveloping as he pushes a second finger inside. "There," he gasps. "Is that better?"

The noise Yuanzhi makes is barely human. "More, ge, more more more..."

He obeys, pumping his hand. His fingers slide in and out, rubbing the pads against his inner wall. Yuanzhi chokes in response, and his hips lift to meet his movements, his cock stiff where it hangs between his legs. "Please don't stop," he pants.

Shangjue doesn't realize he is stroking himself until Yuanzhi nuzzles against his hand. He looks down to see Yuanzhi twist, opening his mouth and wrapping it around the head. Shangjue gasps, holding his cock as his brother sucks on him slowly. His fingers remain buried deep inside his body, and Yuanzhi squirms a bit. 

Shaking himself, he begins to move his hand again, going slow, not wanting to hurt him. But Yuanzhi is certainly enjoying his touch, breathy moans escaping him as he starts to rock to meet his movements. Meanwhile he starts to suck on his cock, dragging the first few inches into his mouth as far as he can go.

The pleasure is too much to resist. Shangjue begins to stroke his insides in earnest as his other hand buries into Yuanzhi's hair. His brother's mouth is hot and delicious, his groans vibrating around his length. He is stiffer than he's ever been, and his mouth is giving a bit of relief from the pulsing need.

"Yuanzhi-didi..."

Yuanzhi gives a satisfied moan, his mouth wrapped tightly around him. He suckles hard, making Shangjue lean forward to press further in, his fingers also pressing as far as they can go. Yuanzhi gasps and his cock falls from his lips, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he goes up on one hand and reaches between his legs with the other. "Right there," he nearly shouts, "right there!"

Shangjue watches as he strokes himself once, twice, and then he is coming, the white bubbling up between his fingers and slipping down his hand. His body grows hotter, and Shangjue feels him clench around him, nearly stopping him from withdrawing his fingers. Is this what an omega is like? Would he go so tightly around his cock, milking him for every drop?

Shangjue yelps at the idea, pushing Yuanzhi away as he falls back. He grips his cock as his own orgasm erupts, spilling shamefully all over his stomach and trousers, intense enough to make his head spin.

When the pounding finally subsides, the room is reeking of sex. He rubs his hand over his sweating face and smells the sickly sweet, the sensation going straight to his now-sensitive cock. He needs a bath desperately, but he can barely sit up, his lungs nearly bursting from his chest.

Yuanzhi, however, has sunk to the floor, his eyes closed and his brow relaxed. He too is covered in sweat, his shorts tangled around his ankles as he seeks a comfortable position on the floor. He is mumbling something, but Shangjue can't stay. He turns and crawls away, heading for the basin of water and soap that will hopefully wash away his brother's scent and let him rest for a while. 

As he cleans himself, he removes the soiled trousers and decides to just stay in his undershorts. He looks over at his brother who is drifting in and out of sleep, seemingly content for the moment. Outside the sun is fully up, and he knows outside the compound is probably bustling with people heading for their morning duties. He wonders if this was enough, knowing deep down inside this will be the slowest day of his life.

===

The morning brought another brief shower, ushering in a surprisingly cool afternoon. Yuanzhi sits by the window and stares outside, watching the clouds move. His body is getting warmer by the minute, but for now he feels mostly sane. Mostly.

This heat is nothing like he had imagined. He had suspected he was an omega for a while, his instincts not aligning with what he knew about the alpha members of his family. Not much had ever been said about omegas, so he had kept his suspicions to himself. Now he knows why.

Across the room, on the bed, Shangjue is tossing and turning. Yuanzhi feels guilty, knowing his presence is making this worse. But what if he leaves, and another alpha senses him? At least he is going through this with his brother, whom he trusts.

He watches as Shangjue sits up, knocking over a cup to reach for the jug of water. Finding it empty, he growls and tosses it across the room. It shatters against the wall, making him jump. "Ge? Are you alright?"

"Leave me be." His voice is harsh, like it is scraping across glass. "I'm fine."

Cautiously Yuanzhi stands. "You're not fine. You're suffering." He huffs out a breath before taking a few steps forward. "We can both get some relief. Why can't we just take care of each other?"

Shangjue looks up, and the look in his eye makes Yuanzhi suck in a deep breath. It is one he has rarely seen, usually saved for an enemy. He feels pinned, like prey, and he fights the urge to flee. Darkness seems to creep in from every corner, covering the room in shadow despite the sun streaming in the window. "Ge, listen—"

"You don't know what you're asking for," Shangjue huffs. "You don't... you don't know what I would do to you."

"I do! I want you to." He hurries over, kneeling in front of his brother and putting his hands on his knees. Shangjue looks away but Yuanzhi moves in to face him. "You can take me however you want."

Shangjue lets out a sharp curse. He looks at him with a mix of want and worry, and Yuanzhi leans in, taking a deep breath of his alpha scent. It instantly calms his itch but excites him at the same time, his sex jerking in response. Yuanzhi brings his face closer, brushing his lips on Shangjue's jaw. "I want you."

"Yuanzhi-didi..." Shangjue makes an uncomfortable noise in his throat.

"What is so wrong? I need an alpha. I don't think I can take it again." His lips play along Shangjue's cheek. "I'm begging you."

He watches as Shangjue's throat bobs, his mouth watering at the sight. His eyes stay locked on Shangjue's neck as his brother says, "Okay. Okay. Just... some rules."

"Mmm." Yuanzhi slides his nose along his brother's. "Anything you want."

"You... have to stay quiet. Stop talking." Yuanzhi nods as Shangjue clears his throat. "No kissing. I don't want to bite you."

"Okay."

His heart is racing, his breath coming in short bursts. Yuanzhi slides his hands along Shangjue's thighs, his skin sticky with sweat, the scent flaring for a moment and filling his nose. "You can..." Shangjue closes his eyes briefly. "You can do what you need to do. But I can't finish inside you. If I start to knot—"

"I'll stop. I promise." Their temples press together. "Thank you, gege."

Shangjue nods.

Yuanzhi stands and removes his shorts. They've been naked in front of each other before, swimming or bathing or changing like brothers would do, but now... Shangjue slowly looks up, as if drinking him in. They lock eyes and his cock swells.

Shangjue reaches up and grabs him by the hips. He pulls him close, pressing his face to Yuanzhi's stomach. He takes several deep breaths before Yuanzhi feels his tongue slide along his abdomen. He gasps in surprise at the sensation, bracing himself on his brother's shoulders as he kisses along the outlines of his muscles.

Shangjue's hands go behind him and give him a squeeze. Instantly he feels that wetness again, and he realizes it's coming from himself; Yuanzhi moans as Shangjue spreads his cheeks, and more of the slick slides out and down the backs of his thighs.

"So wet for me already," Shangjue murmurs against his skin. "I haven't even touched you yet."

"Ge—"

A finger presses to his opening, massaging gently. Yuanzhi moans, tilting his hips back to give more access. The need for something to fill him flares hot and bright in his veins, but Shangjue just teases him, spreading the slickness over his skin and practically petting his opening. "Ge," he pants, "that feels so good."

His cock is fully erect now. Yuanzhi resists the urge to take it in his hand, instead focusing on the fluttering sensations in his backside. He clenches deliciously, then again; soon he is moaning, breathy gasps as he silently begs Shangjue to give him more. 

Then something wet and tight wraps around his cock, and he looks down to see Shangjue's mouth wrapped around him. The sight is so shocking, so erotic, he cries out; Shangjue looks up as he slides his lips up and down for several passes before pulling away. "An alpha takes care of his omega," he growls.

Shangjue tugs on his hips, and Yuanzhi follows his lead to lay back on the bed. His legs dangle over the side as Shangjue settles between them, his hands pushing his thighs apart. Yuanzhi trembles in anticipation when he feels his breath against the inside of his thigh. "Ge..."

"Quiet, didi."

Shangjue's fingers dance along his length. He finally grasps him lightly and starts to pump his hand, barely touching. Yuanzhi bites his lip hard to keep from moaning out loud. The movements are driving him insane, the touch making him overly sensitive but needing more at the same time.

He looks down to see Shangjue watching him. His eyes are hungry, and once more Yuanzhi thinks of a predator. His core clenches deliciously at the gentle touch. He wants to ask for more, to beg him to do something, but he tries his best to obey his brother's order. 

"Stop squirming," Shangjue says. Yuanzhi hadn't even realized he was; when Shangjue removes his hand, he bucks his hips up to follow it. "I said don't move."

"Ge—"

Shangjue flicks his tongue over the tip, licking the leaking fluid. Again and again he laps at the head, never breaking eye contact. Yuanzhi finally drops back, chest heaving when he can't take anymore. He won't survive this. His skin is unbearably hot, sweat breaking out everywhere. More slick drips from his body, pooling beneath him uncomfortably. 

Shangjue presses a kiss to the underside, then drags his tongue along the vein. Yuanzhi can't help the moan that escapes him, low and deep in his chest. He reaches out for something, finally fisting his hands in the bedsheets. If he doesn't take him in his mouth soon, he's going to go insane. 

But Shangjue continues the tease, stopping to lap at the base of his cock before moving downwards. Then he presses his tongue flat against the heavy sac, mouthing his body expertly. Yuanzhi can barely breathe, heat smothering him from all sides as he gives in to the sensations. He can't take any more, he can't.

Thankfully, finally, Shangjue returns to his cock. He swallows him with one movement, his mouth sinking until he is enveloped in tight, wet heat. Yuanzhi's breathing is high pitched now, his hips lifting on their own to burrow deeper. He gasps out “Ge," barely whispered like a prayer. 

Then Shangjue begins to move. It is all slick and the rhythm of his bobbing head makes his heart race. Need twists like a knife in his stomach, his cock twitching on its own when Shangjue slides up towards the head. He sinks again and again, the sound of Shangjue sucking on his cock filthy; when he presses fully inside his throat, his head spins with pleasure.

He isn't going to last long. It's been only a few minutes and Yuanzhi already feels the tightening inside his sac, the first steps towards the inevitable. One hand reaches out to grab Shangjue's hair and push him down, but he only has the sensation of a few strands before Shangjue is moving again, his cock falling from his mouth with a wet popping sound.

Shangjue sinks down, his hands gripping the back of his thighs and pulling them up. His tongue teases down his sac again, making him groan, and then... down, licking a bundle of nerves that has him jolting from the mattress... then more, more, further in, spreading him open and lapping at the slick now pouring from his body.

For a moment he imagines what it must look like, his typically upright and indomitable brother with messy hair and a face full of cock, his cheeks and chin covered in wetness. Yuanzhi feels his tongue press against his hole and he lets go a cry, his back bowing from the bed.

The mouth returns to his thigh, leaving him panting. "Quiet," Shangjue says, his voice strained.

But Yuanzhi can barely hold it together, his skin crawling. "Please, more, more, more."

"Didi." He feels his lips press to his thigh. They open, and Yuanzhi shivers as he feels his teeth scrape against his skin. "You promised."

He holds his breath as Shangjue presses his teeth to his flesh. He doesn't bite, but holds him there, before moving to another spot, just as sensitive. He simulates biting him several times, never actually bearing down. It's enough, however, to stop his squirming, his body still even as it pulses.

Shangjue presses his face to his leg, nuzzling against him. Yuanzhi's cock bobs, seeking attention, and he silently moans as he waits for more. He is too close now, any movement will probably have him coming on the spot. His mouth falls open as his eyes close, anticipation breaking along his skin like pinpricks.

Two fingers press to his mouth. Immediately Yuanzhi sucks them in, lavishing them with his tongue. He remembers how he had done the same to Shangjue's cock earlier; not nearly as expertly as his brother has done, but in his own fumbling way wanting to have something inside him. Eagerly he sucks on the two fingers, his lips wet when Shangjue pulls them away. Then he presses them to his opening, slipping both slowly inside, and Yuanzhi comes.

Muscles spasm and send bolts of pleasure through him. His body contracts once, twice, and his seed erupts just as Shangjue leans down to mouth at the head. Everything is too hot and too heavy, his skin itching, and even though the orgasm brings great reilef, as Shangjue slides his mouth away with a wet sound he realizes his body is already craving more.

Shangjue moves over him as his fingers leave his body. Yuanzhi sees him through blurry, tear-streaked lashes. He watches in a daze as Shangjue licks his lips, his seed coating his chin.

Yuanzhi leans up. He wants his mouth, dying for a taste of his saliva and his come mixed together. But Shangjue turns his head, his lips landing on his cheek. Instead, he mouths down his brother's neck, sucking on his skin until Shangjue is tugging him back by the hair. "Wasn't that enough?" he asks, his voice strained.

Yuanzhi is nearly drunk on the smell of him, the feeling of their bodies together, the heat and sweat making the air tacky. He rubs his thighs together, the sensation slick. "Take me," he pants.

Shangjue makes a noise before sitting up. Yuanzhi is floating, nearly weightless as he is pulled up and positioned on his lap. Shangjue's chest presses to his back and Yuanzhi drops his head back, resting it on his shoulder. Against his rear he feels Shangjue's erection, grinding upwards against his seam. "Oh yes," he groans, his voice unrecognizable. "Oh please give it to me."

Shangjue grips him by the throat, holding him steady. With a shift of his hips he feels his cock press between his cheeks; then, finally, the head breaches his entrance, slowly filling him. He feels impossibly big, and suddenly Yuanzhi is afraid. But his body is wet enough that his brother slides in easily, nearly to the hilt before he stops.

Yuanzhi's breath stutters. This is... this is what he wanted, but so much more, his eyes filling with tears at finally being full. His body is stretched open impossibly wide, and he can only lean back against Shangjue and feel.

Shangjue begins to thrust. Like everything he does, he moves with precision, his calloused fingers digging into Yuanzhi's jaw and guiding his hip. His cock slides easily inside his body, impossibly slick. Yuanzhi's eyes close as it becomes too much: all that exists for him now is the thick length that buries into him. The noises he makes are indecent, but Yuanzhi can't care about that now. Neither can he care about his new erection, raging as if he hadn't just come harder than ever in his life not minutes ago.

He grips his cock and begins to stroke. Within a minute he is coming again, seed coating his hand as he works himself furiously. Shangjue hits a spot inside him that has him arching, intensifying the contractions that run deep through his body. Surely he can't do this again.

He collapses back, Shangjue still buried inside him. Everything is sticky and his mouth is dry from groaning. Shangjue presses his forehead to his shoulder, and Yuanzhi turns his head. He lifts just as he tilts his head and their mouths meet briefly.

It is a fleeting kiss, barely flesh against flesh, but Yuanzhi freezes. Then Shangjue covers his mouth with his own, kissing him hard, his tongue lavishing inside his mouth. The hand gripping his neck tilts his chin to the side so he can go deeper, harder, and Yuanzhi can barely breathe.

Everything is too sensitive, the air too stuffy. He is surrounded by Shangjue, filled with him, and when his brother finally pulls away Yuanzhi nearly collapses, so overwhelmed. But Shangjue is far from finished. He pushes Yuanzhi away, who falls face-first onto the bed. Thinking he is angry, Yuanzhi whimpers, pressing his face to the sheets that now smell like sex and alpha and clutching his fists in frustration.

Hands grip his legs and yank him backwards. Yuanzhi is positioned over the edge of the bed, and Shangjue leans over him, his cock pressing against his backside. "I warned you," he growls, his hands gripping his rear and opening him. "You're mine now."

"Ge, please..." He doesn't know what he's asking for; stop or keep going? His nerves flare as the cock enters him again, and Yuanzhi is all at once aching for it but overly sensitive. It feels fuller this way, and he is helpless under his body, Shangjue's chest on his back keeping him pinned. He claws at the mattress for purchase, wanting to find a position that would ease some of the ache from being filled again.

It's too much. Too full, too intense: his thrusts are too hard, his cock growing too big, pushing Yuanzhi beyond any reasonable limit. His own sex starts to harden, and Yuanzhi whimpers into the mattress. How can he come again? It's impossible.

"Ge," he pants, "please, just... wait..."

In response Shangjue grabs his hair. The roots pull tightly as he winds his hand through the strands, and then he is bending him into a near impossible curve, his hips up as his head is tilted at the ceiling. Their skin slaps with every movement, sounding loud and wet in the silence of the room, Shangjue's harsh panting over all. 

Yuanzhi squeezes his eyes closed, trying not to beg him to stop. It doesn't hurt, but he is too sensitive, and each time Shangjue plunges into his body every nerve ending jolts with lightning. This is what alphas do, he thinks: why Shangjue had hidden him away, why he had resisted him for so long. Yuanzhi thought he could handle it; he was a fool.

Shangjue fills him a final time. Then the impossible occurs: he grows bigger, thicker, and Yuanzhi yelps in fear. There is no way his body can accommodate more, but it does somehow, the feeling uncomfortable but somehow satisfying. His own member is stiff and leaking, but Yuanzhi doesn't dare to touch himself. He knows he is crying, his cheeks wet and flaring at the humiliation of being used like this. Yet his body betrays him, and when Shangjue reaches around them to grasp his cock, Yuanzhi shouts in ecstasy, pressing back against him for more.

Yuanzhi finds himself getting close again, and he feels afraid for the first time, knowing that this orgasm will ruin him completely.

Something sharp pierces his skin. Yuanzhi cries out and Shangjue is sinking his teeth into his flesh, biting hard onto his shoulder. The pain mixes with the pleasure of the slow, drawn out pace and Yuanzhi can only sob in response. Shangjue sucks on his skin, licking at the bruise that must be forming on his shoulder. Tears blur his eyes as he starts to come again, pulsing deep in his core.

Shangjue is now holding him down, pressing his palms to his back as he slowly starts to move once again.

This time... this time, it's slow, achingly so, Yuanzhi's senses overloaded. Shangjue takes his time, stroking inside him as he moves with a deliberate pace. His brother makes a noise that is nearly feral and then a thick, hot substance begins to fill him. Yuanzhi closes his eyes tightly as Shangjue erupts into him, thrusting slow and steady as it turns hot and slippery and somehow, despite everything, absolute heaven.

Yuanzhi is half asleep when Shangjue pulls out of him, leaving him a mess on the bed as he sinks to the floor. “We shouldn’t have done this,” Shangjue says harshly, sounding unbearably sad. “I marked you, Yuanzhi-didi, I’m so sorry.”

The consequences will be great, and deep down Yuanzhi knows this. His shoulder is aching but Yuanzhi curls into a comfortable position, finally feeling satisfied. 

[prolestariwrites]

Febuwhump Day 5

Survivor

TW: Mention of death, funeral, mention of child abuse

There is a boy that is crying. Yuanzhi stares at him curiously. He’s never seen an older boy cry. Yuanzhi cries sometimes, but then Father tells him to stop and to be a man. Yuanzhi isn’t a man, though, so that confuses him.

The grown-ups take turns patting the boy on the shoulder, and each time the boy wipes his eyes viciously before nodding and saying something through trembling lips. But as soon as he is alone again, his head falls, and tears run down his cheeks and drip on the chrysanthemums he clutches in his hand.

It’s boring here. Yuanzhi wasn’t allowed to bring any of his toys, and he is dressed in stiff white robes that tug at his neck and make him trip when he walks. Unlike the perfectly tailored robes he normally wears, this one was put together hastily, although Yuanzhi doesn’t know that. He just knows that everyone is wearing the stark color and it’s very strange, almost as strange as the crying boy.

No one talks to Yuanzhi. Nanny holds his hand tightly and when he tugs she gently but firmly holds him in place. The grown-ups talk to one another in hushed voices but never to him. If Yuanzhi was older, he might see the sideways looks that are sent in his direction, or recognize that some of the conversations were about him and his behavior days before. But that day itself is a blur of crying and exhaustion, and Yuanzhi does not know what he’s done.

“Nanny,” he says in a not-so-whisper, “why is that boy crying?”

She quickly pushes his pointing finger down and shushes him. “Little Master, we must not point,” she whispers.

He huffs but does not push the issue. He doesn’t want to have to see his father later, which is what happens when he truly misbehaves. Then his father yells and sometimes uses the strap, which Yuanzhi hates.

But Father is dead, whatever that means. And he isn’t here, so Yuanzhi tugs again on Nanny’s hand.

“I want to go home,” he whines.

“Just a little longer,” she murmurs.

Yuanzhi’s gaze wanders back over to the boy. He’s stopped crying, and is staring at Yuanzhi, his expression strange. Yuanzhi grins and waves his hand, and the boy puts up his own before quickly putting it back down. Maybe they can be friends? Yuanzhi’s never had a friend before. His father doesn’t let him play with the other boys. He says that Yuanzhi is better than they are.

The elders move to the front of the room and a hush falls on the crowd. Yuanzhi cranes his neck to see what is happening, but Uncle Somebody’s hat is in the way. 

Someone hands Nanny a candle, and Yuanzhi snatches it from her hand. He settles on her lap, tapping the wax against his palm and turning it in circles. 

One by one people take turns carrying their candles to the front. Yuanzhi jumps up to watch on tiptoes, wondering when it will be his turn.

The boy who was crying stands and walks to the front. Yuanzhi holds his breath as he watches him light the candle, and the elders say something to him but Yuanzhi doesn’t hear. The boy looks so sad, he wants to give him a hug and tell him to be happy. Maybe his father is dead too? There were lots of people who were dead, and Yuanzhi asked what that meant twice and both times were ignored. Then he asked Nanny and Nanny said father went to another place. Sometimes father goes away but he always comes back. He does not bring any gifts.

He should tell the boy this. They’ll come back. He will go find him later and make sure he knows. Then he won’t cry anymore.