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It takes some convincing but eventually Chu Wanning agrees to tie Mo Ran up because Mo Ran knows, he knows, that if he isn’t tied up then he won’t be able to control himself, wants the bite of the ropes on his wrists and forearms to remind him that whatever happens tonight is Chu Wanning’s choice, Chu Wanning’s desire, that he’s just along for the ride. So Chu Wanning ties him up and sits there on his lap, looking like a vision already, eyes dark, hands curling in uncertainty.
“Kiss me?” Mo Ran asks, knowing how thin his face is, wanting him to relax. He does, and it’s so gentle, so delicate, like velvet, and this is when Mo Ran realizes exactly how the night’s gonna go – gentle, quiet, soft, nearly unbearable. So different from their usual and Mo Ran wants it so badly, wants those delicate-boned fingers tracing down his chest like they’re afraid of ripping him like paper, like they don’t know what it is to wield heaven’s fury. Chu Wanning lets his hands wander while they kiss, and Mo Ran’s head spins when they caress him, butterfly wings against desirous flesh. The graceful, pale lines of Chu Wanning’s fingers with their light pink tips against his dripping red cock look almost perverted. When they draw away, the precome on them catches the light, and Mo Ran has to draw a breath before he forgets how to.
“Do what feels good, baobei,” he says, and Chu Wanning huffs but drags that wet hand across his inner thigh, digs his nails in a little, right where Mo Ran knows he’s sensitive. He does it again, and again, and then moves to caress his hips, his lower stomach. Mo Ran watches his eyes haze over in increments, knows he’s sinking into the sensations like he’s been taught, like Mo Ran has shown him. He drags a hand up, moving oh so slow, and rakes his nails down his neck and across his collarbone, leaving marks that flash white and then sink into a light red, and Mo Ran groans. Chu Wanning’s gaze flickers to him, a little bit surprised, as if he’d forgotten whose lap he was sitting in, the one-member audience to his self-pleasure, before shifting away.
Mo Ran knows Chu Wanning likes to build the sensations slowly when he plays with himself, on the rare occasions that Chu Wanning lets him witness such divine acts. It seems tonight is no different, as Chu Wanning finally, finally lets his fingers sink to the junction between his legs, to the wet heat that has time and time again gifted the true meaning of holiness to its most devout worshiper, whose cock is crying out for absolution only a few centimeters away. He doesn’t go straight for the clit, lets his fingers wander across the rosy pink flesh that Mo Ran knows tastes so sweet, dripping with nectar. Mo Ran’s mouth is salivating, and he swallows roughly. Chu Wanning’s other hand lands carelessly on Mo Ran’s waist, holding him up as he shifts, and the knuckles of his busy hand brush against Mo Ran’s neglected cock. It twitches, begging for attention from him like a puppy. Mo Ran might rebuke the shamelessness of his cock if he weren’t in the same boat.
Chu Wanning seems to finally notice the state Mo Ran is in and shuffles forward on his knees, moves his hand to rest on the other side of Mo Ran’s waist. Mo Ran only has a moment to realize what’s happening before Chu Wanning drags the burning wet heat of his pussy up along Mo Ran’s length, rolling his hips in slow motion. They moan in unison, Chu Wanning’s staccato breath almost covered by the deep noise of relief mixed with despair that comes from Mo Ran’s chest. So it’s going to be like this, huh. Chu Wanning’s breath catches again as he pulls his hips back, and sets a tortuously slow pace of grinding along the frankly ridiculous length of Mo Ran’s cock, soaking it with the liquid dripping from his pussy. Every so often the tip of Mo Ran’s cock catches Chu Wanning’s clit and his hips jerk helplessly as he tries and fails to swallow around a moan. Mo Ran tries his best not to shove his hips up, but it’s so so hard when Chu Wanning is biting his lip and clenching his hands where they rest on Mo Ran’s waist.
He doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, so it flickers between Chu Wanning’s pink lips embracing his cock like a kiss, both of their precome dripping onto his navel, and Chu Wanning’s face partially hidden behind a lock of hair, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted as he pants quietly, refusing to make a sound but unable to control the expression of rapture written across his features. Chu Wanning tries another angle and something about it must be very, very right because his mouth drops open a little more and he moves his hips like he’s not even thinking about it, just letting them search for the most pleasure they can. Chu Wanning’s hips finally grind forward far enough on Mo Ran’s cock that the head catches, and when he pulls his hips back again it bullies its way in, just a few centimeters but enough that Mo Ran can’t help the groan that tears from his throat. Burning heat envelops just the tip of him and he told himself he’d be patient but god if he doesn’t want to rip through these ropes and force Chu Wanning onto the rest of his cock to stay there forever.
Chu Wanning releases a breath like he’s had the air punched out of him and—most importantly—doesn’t pull off. Instead he oh-so-slowly starts lowering his hips, taking Mo Ran inch by inch into that secret place deep inside him, gaze locked on where they meet.
“Baobei,” Mo Ran tries to say, but it comes out strangled, and he can’t think of anything else to add. Chu Wanning hums and—perhaps cruelly—sinks all the way down to the root of Mo Ran’s cock, then doesn’t move. His hand drags over Mo Ran’s stomach, tangles in the dark curls for a second, barely tugging—Mo Ran’s hips jerk only a little before he forces himself still—and comes to where Mo Ran is buried deep in his core. They only rest there for a second before they’re wandering, touching the edges of Chu Wanning’s pussy where he’s spread around Mo Ran’s girth, up to his clit, before moving back down to pet Mo Ran’s curls again. His expression is slightly awed, as if Chu Wanning’s never had a cock defiling him, stretching his inner walls past their limits and forcing their softness to adjust to its rigid length. The pink in his cheeks starts to spread down his neck as his hands continue to wander, moving up past his clit to—oh—Mo Ran’s breath catches and his arms flex in their bonds before he remembers himself—to cup the slight bulge where Mo Ran’s cock presses against the organs below his stomach, barely visible but Chu Wanning presses down and Mo Ran can feel it and this time the jerk of his hips is entirely out of his control. Chu Wanning gasps and rides the buck of his hips into submission.
“Wanning,” Mo Ran says. Begs. Prays. But Chu Wanning is not a loving god, and simply places his hands back on Mo Ran’s waist before setting a pace as slow as before, dragging his slick walls up and off Mo Ran’s weeping cock until only the head still spreads his lips and then sinking back down, looking for all the world like a cat lounging in a sunbeam. Mo Ran is crumbling, his body repeatedly tensing and relaxing as the pleasure comes in waves, rapidly losing awareness of everything but that dark-eyed, self-satisfied look and the heat around his cock.
He nearly cries out when Chu Wanning pulls off with an obscene sound, and shivers in desperation and loss. But Chu Wanning doesn’t go far—starts rolling his hips, letting his pussy slide against Mo Ran’s cock again. Mo Ran thinks wildly that he should be disappointed, maybe, but Chu Wanning lets out a quiet little ‘ah’ as his clit glides over Mo Ran’s cockhead and suddenly it’s burning hot, there’s a fever in his veins, and maybe Chu Wanning is a loving god after all—
A whine is ripped from his throat when Chu Wanning switches again after a few passes, settling on his cock with that same slow pace before riding him like he’s got nowhere to be for the next few years, like he’s not chasing an orgasm but just enjoying the friction. Mo Ran is losing his mind, unsure when the next switch will be and captive to the whims of Chu Wanning, who’s maybe, probably, definitely unaware of how he looks slowly pumping his hips and taking his pleasure in such a decadent, spoiled way. Mo Ran can’t tear his eyes away. The sun has sunk low enough in the sky visible through their window that it catches on all of Chu Wanning’s curves and edges, wraps him in a halo of gold as reverent as Mo Ran feels, caressing his skin in all the ways Mo Ran can’t.
He must make a noise that gets Chu Wanning’s attention, because in the next moment he glances up, eyes catching the light and condensing it into a pure fire that burns through Mo Ran. Chu Wanning makes a little noise in his throat before leaning close and shyly maneuvering his tongue into Mo Ran’s mouth with little kitten licks and tiny gasps.
Mo Ran tries his hardest to let Chu Wanning lead the kiss for about two seconds before realizing that he’s allowed to have control of either his hips or his tongue, but not both. He deepens the kiss with a groan, sucking harshly on Chu Wanning’s tongue and digging his teeth into the other’s bottom lip, setting a rapid, desperate pace that’s in direct conflict with the grind of Chu Wanning’s pussy on his cock. He fucks furiously into Chu Wanning’s mouth with his tongue like he’s not allowed to with other parts of his body, and that sets Chu Wanning off—he shivers, gasps, and comes all over the eager cock below him.
Mo Ran bites him again, and Chu Wanning moans, then—god, yes—sits back on Mo Ran’s cock and lets him feel the fluttering of his inner walls, his little hip twitches. Mo Ran drives up once, twice into that sacred heat, and comes with Chu Wanning’s tiny fucked out moans echoing in his ears.
They catch their breath like that, Chu Wanning draped over Mo Ran, Mo Ran’s cock still buried in his pussy, come dripping and pooling between their groins.
“Wanning,” Mo Ran says, “Untie me?” Chu Wanning huffs and sits up in a languorous arch of his back that makes Mo Ran’s cock twitch again, then shifts and leans over to start on the left tie. He doesn’t notice Mo Ran’s breath catch, or the quickly-returning heat of his gaze, but continues on to the second tie, loosening it quickly.
In an instant he finds himself on his back, Mo Ran pressing him into the bed. They’re still joined together, and the new weight of Mo Ran’s hips forces his cock deep into Chu Wanning’s body, stealing his breath away and making his limbs spasm.
“Wanning was exquisite,” is rumbled into the place where his neck meets his shoulder, and makes him shiver. He still can’t quite catch his breath, it feels like he can taste Mo Ran’s cock in his throat. He lets out a choked noise when Mo Ran thrusts once, forceful enough that he would have been pushed up the bed if not for the heavy hands gripping his hips. “He looked so satisfied, using my cock for his pleasure,” Mo Ran runs his hands up Chu Wanning’s sides and thrusts again, forcing a breathy moan out of Chu Wanning. “But isn’t Wanning tired? Working his pussy up and down on my cock for so long...”
“Mo Ran!”
“Let me do the work this time, baobei. I’ll go so slow, just like you want.”
And he does, all night long.