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“Again.”
The shrill sound of swords clashing was ringing loudly in Jiyan’s ears as Geshu Lin parried yet another one of his attacks with infuriating ease, sending him flying backwards further than any non Resonator ever could. Gods, he’s not even trying, is not even slightly out of breath as he straightens his back, assuming his original stance once more.
Another swing, action sidestepped without the need to even raise his sword in defence.
“Again.”
The air of disdain in his actions, his words, his unimpassioned face—it was all making Jiyan’s blood boil, as stupid and juvenile as it sounds. He wasn’t to exert any of his Forte to engage the general, but refraining from using it to at least put a dent in his iron-clad defence was proving much more energy draining than actively using it in the first place. The temptation to conjure his Qingloong to blast that cold, bored expression off his general’s face was prickling under his skin, and the air around him rustles the green foliage nearby as he bristles.
He feels ridiculous.
“Control yourself. You are wasting your energy, Jiyan. Why should I take this seriously if you do not?”
Chest heaving with exertion, his clammy hand gripping the hilt of the training sword tight. He had left his gloves behind today, which was shaping up to be a very poor decision by the looks of it. He was getting tired, the muscles in his arms and legs screaming with every minuscule movement, begging for him to give up.
He hates that Geshu Lin recognises it so easily. Always perceptive, always knowing. One would think Jué themselves is whispering in his damn ear with the way he reads everyone with such ease.
“Excuse me for not putting on a good enough performance for you,” he spits, repositioning himself. “I wasn’t prepared for an impromptu sparring session.”
“If you don’t have what it takes to be a soldier, just say so. I’ll be more than happy to replace you with someone who wants to be here.”
Would you, now.
The older man opens his mouth again, and Jiyan springs into action before he can spew any more of those taunting words, closing the distance between them in an instant.
Oh— this time he nearly gets a hit in, as Geshu Lin narrowly avoids getting slashed by the edge of his blade. He can’t deny the thrill it awards him, and he would’ve laughed if he wasn’t immediately met with a retaliating blow that nearly sets him off balance.
For a few moments, the outer world cease to exist as they engage in a dance; trading swift, lightning fast strikes with each other. Geshu Lin was far from rattled (was he ever?), but it was evident in the way he responds to Jiyan’s swipes at him that he was finally giving him his full attention, eyes rapt for the first time this afternoon. He has no good words for the way that makes him feel, the way it pools low in his gut and stays there, simmering.
On the other end, Geshu Lin was clearly enjoying every second of this, like the honest to Gods strange man that he is. Jiyan has seen him fight countless times on the battlefield, and although equal parts mesmerising and unsettling in its brutal efficiency, doesn’t think he’ll ever understand the way he seems to feed off active combat.
Jiyan also doesn’t think the man has ever truly relaxed in his life.
After parrying another hit from Geshu Lin (entirely too close for comfort), Jiyan’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to his Tacet Mark, which seems to be flickering gently. He’s definitely not leering at his bare neck, or his exposed collarbones, or the thin sheen of sweat on pale skin—
And then the world suddenly spins on its axis a little too quickly as he lands on his back, the fall only somewhat dampened by the soft grass. The bastard had hooked his leg around his ankle to trip him, which is entirely against the rules he set himself for this stupid session. This really wasn’t what he was imagining when he daydreamed about being swept off his feet as a young boy.
But that’s neither here nor there. Knows there’s no use in trying to make Geshu Lin play nice, ever.
Before he had the opportunity to orient himself and get up, the other man was on him, pinning his shoulder down with one hand, blade pressed up against his throat with the other.
“That would have been your head, if I was the enemy,” he says, breath still laboured. Good to know he’s not some untouchable God. The metal of the blade was somehow freezing cold against his burning skin, even through the thin layer of his turtleneck. His face was only inches away from his.
“Sometimes I wonder if you aren’t,” Jiyan manages, still trying to adjust to having the air knocked out of his lungs. He stares at his own sword, lying uselessly in the grass where it fell together with him. As if all of this was its fault, somehow.
Jiyan is hyper-aware of the way the grip on his shoulder tightens. “You’re distracted.”
“Thank you for the astute observation, General Geshu,” he says in mock deference, pushing against the weight on top of him. If his own voice is a little thin, a little shrill, he doesn’t notice it. “You win, as always. Are we done?”
Geshu Lin doesn’t move off him, but he drops his sword to the ground next to Jiyan’s. Amber eyes peer into his own, but don’t disclose anything about what he’s thinking. Impenetrable when he wants to be, and another addition to the ever growing list of grievances he has with this guy.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” the older man’s voice drops an octave, and Jiyan isn’t sure if this is a rhetorical question or not. He squirms. Most Midnight Rangers would agree that any prolonged eye contact with the General was bone chilling in its own right, because it seems like he’s seeing right through you. If he didn’t know better, he would assume he could, as part of his Forte. Wouldn’t put it past him if it secretly was true, on the other hand.
Jiyan has—regrettably so— spent enough time with him to know exactly what kind of stare this is, and it’s no less unnerving for a whole variety of reasons. He suddenly feels great urgency to get this man off him before he says or does something he’s going to regret.
“I—“
Geshu Lin shifts where he’s situated on top of him, and inadvertently grinds down on his crotch. A very embarrassing noise escapes Jiyan’s throat, and his free arm immediately comes up to cover his undoubtedly flushed face. Really, Jiyan. Your weaknesses truly know no fucking bounds.
“So that’s how it is.”
Here we go.
“Nope, no, that’s not how anything is, whatever it is you’re thinking,” he twists underneath his weight—honestly, he’s so heavy—away from his touch and to avoid his own body trying to commit mutiny by attempting to grind up against him, but he’s immediately stilled by Geshu Lin’s other hand on his hip. Pinning him in place like a caught rabbit. His pulse thuds in his ears.
Geshu Lin smiles, clearly so fucking amused. “You’ve been pissy all afternoon because I brought you here, and not to my quarters.”
“I—No,” he breathes in, trying to look anywhere but at his stupid face. “You’ve been gone for three weeks, and the first thing you do is drag me out into the woods to spar? Do forgive me if I don’t see the urgency.”
“You need to improve if we’re going to have a shot at winning this war.”
“Oh, so this is all on me then?”
“Should I have brought you flowers, first?” he quips, quips!! Settling more of his weight on Jiyan’s crotch, Geshu Lin pushes back against the unmistakable growing hardness in his pants. His head spins, and he’s not entirely sure he’s not just mildly concussed from the fall.
Jiyan is not inherently a violent person despite his new title, but he may have to commit treason and murder this man. He was no longer a combat medic, and didn’t have to adhere to the oath anymore. People would understand. Some may even want to shake his hand over it.
But, then again…
It’s been a long three weeks.
“Fine, yes. Maybe I was hoping for something else. Is that a crime?” Jiyan musters up the courage to face him again, and is met with a heady gaze that sends immediate shivers down his spine, his body tensing in anticipation. He doesn’t miss the split second Geshu Lin’s attention shifts to his lips, and he decides he’s done talking, dragging him down to close the distance between them with a kiss.
As with everything else, there’s no such thing as pulling a fast one on the general, and he recovers quickly as he shifts to cup Jiyan’s face with one hand. It could’ve even been seen as gentle, if it wasn’t for the way he then angles him to deepen the kiss with all the grace of a drunken brute. So much for the romantic fantasies of his youth.
Which isn’t to say he’s not shamelessly moaning the second Geshu Lin coaxes his mouth open, the first kiss he’s had in the three weeks he’s been gone. He’s supposed to be upset. He’s supposed to be mad that Geshu Lin can’t ever seem to stop toying with him, and yet he can’t deny how good this feels, and comfortably familiar, as the man above him sucks on his tongue, and takes, and takes, and takes.
With his limited range of motion, Jiyan reaches up to card his fingers through soft, surprisingly delicate silver strands as he nips at Geshu Lin’s equally soft lips, eliciting a gasp from the other. Not hard enough to hurt. Not much, anyway.
Regrettably, Geshu Lin pulls away from him all too soon, away from his grasp. If he makes a noise of disappointment, that legally can’t be held against him.
“What do you need, Jiyan?” he murmurs, in a voice that belies a deep seated want. He looks so stupidly handsome like this, with kiss bruised lips and eyes that seemed dead set on devouring him; it always felt like a privilege seeing him this way, like a side of him that only he was allowed to take part of. Because it is just for him, right?
Right?
Jiyan isn’t some blushing maiden, but some things are still difficult to say out loud. And quite frankly shouldn’t even be necessary if Geshu Lin was a nice and normal man and not some super mutated TD spawn sent to torture him personally. “You know. You know already,” he breathes, hand curled into his lover’s shirt. He wished he would take it off.
No, lover is the incorrect word for how unfathomably cruel this man is, as said man tilts his head in mock concern. “I’m not sure you deserve it.”
“You’re joking.”
“Have I ever been anything but completely serious with you? You did lose, you realise.” Geshu Lin idly traces a calloused thumb over Jiyan’s spit-addled lips, never quite dipping inside.
Yes, actually, all the damn time. He could write a best selling novel about all the ways this guy acts immaturely around him when they’re alone. But Jiyan has been hard in his pants for ages now, and also unfortunately knows exactly what Geshu Lin is angling for.
The man is going to attempt to embarrass him one way or another, and whatever pride he originally had went down the drain months ago the moment he decided to hop in bed with the most frustrating person he knows anyway. Might as well do it sooner rather than later.
Even if it’s on this patch of grass in the middle of nowhere. Neither of them had standards.
Well. Jiyan has never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how ridiculous. So, against his better judgement, he grabs Geshu Lin’s unclothed arm, feels warm skin and smooth muscles beneath his fingertips. He puts on the most demure facial expression he can manage, “Punish me, then.”
Geshu Lin exhales loudly, the grip he still has on Jiyan’s hip tightening. Jiyan thinks he likes having that effect on someone. “That’s what you want?”
“Yes. Please.”
His eyes widened, just a smidgen, as if he had been expecting more pushback. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” Geshu Lin shifts backwards, pushes Jiyan’s legs apart to settle between them. “I’ll indulge you.”
Wow, how benevolent. Who said the General isn’t kind and considerate?
As much as he would like to argue against the point that he’s the one being indulged and not the other way around, he realises it’s counterproductive to his own goals at the moment and keeps his mouth shut, silently wrapping his legs around the man above him.
Jiyan sighs, content, as he feels Geshu Lin’s large hands travel up and down the sides of his torso, one hand coming up to toy with the strap across his chest. He bites his lip to avoid another pathetic sound escaping him when Geshu Lin splays that same hand underneath it, scratching at one of his nipples through the thin fabric.
“You look good on your back, Jiyan.”
A part of him preens over hearing this, enjoys knowing the General finds him this desirable. Another part of him is too damn thin faced to take the ill-disguised jibe head on. “Gods, you talk too much,” he grumbles, his impatient hands pulling at Geshu Lin’s arms to draw him back in for another kiss.
Geshu Lin chuckles as he gives in to those demanding hands, leans down to give him what he wants. Jiyan lets him in immediately this time, his mouth already having missed the taste and warmth of him. As they settle back into it again, Jiyan starts to shamelessly (finally, finally) rub himself against Geshu Lin in earnest, desperate to have some friction lest he goes insane.
The simmering in his gut comes to a roaring boil as he feels the other man’s hardened cock against his own, and the low groan of pleasure against his lips makes his head spin again, just as those questing hands start fiddling with Jiyan’s belts securing his pants and coat, undoing them with practiced ease. It’s good to know Geshu Lin wants this as much as he does.
Jiyan breaks the kiss to yank at Geshu Lin's shirt, “Off, off,” he demands, and takes a moment to admire the view when he acquiesces, revealing the black tank top underneath as the offending garment gets tossed to the side. Oh to see all of it up close, the tight muscles and scars from past battles, old and new…
His general was gorgeous. His fingers itched to touch all over, to kiss and taste and reacquaint himself with him once more. There is a ravenous, insatiable hunger in the darkest parts of his mind whenever Geshu Lin is involved that he has yet to contend with, and it still terrifies him on occasion.
Sitting back on his haunches, Geshu Lin slides off Jiyan’s pants, bringing his underwear and boots with them. He pauses for a moment and seems to do some admiring of his own, lust filled eyes taking in the sight of the bare skin revealed to him. As familiar as it is now, it still stuns Jiyan with the intensity of it, and he feels his own cock twitch in the cool air. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.
Geshu Lin is still practically fully dressed, but he makes no move to remove anything else despite Jiyan’s pleading, merely fishing out a small packet out of his back pocket. He holds the younger man's gaze as he rips into the packaging with his teeth, allowing the clear contents to spread over his fingers.
Oh.
“You… you’re just walking around with lube in your pocket at all times, General?” Jiyan asks, a little incredulously, as he watches those coated fingers rub together. Despite himself, despite where they are, his body is absolutely on board with the idea of having them inside. He licks his lips.
“Always have to be prepared. You of all people should agree with that sentiment,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling Jiyan close with his clean hand like he weighs less than a sheet of paper. Keeping one of his long legs out of the way, he pours the remaining contents over Jiyan's entrance. Fuck, it’s cold.
“I’m not entirely certain lubricant qualifies as travel necessities—“ Jiyan’s voice tapers off into a low whine as a slicked finger breaches him to the first knuckle quite unceremoniously, his fists grasping at the grass in desperation. Their last time wasn’t that long ago, but he still can’t seem to stop his hips from trembling. Geshu Lin really had no intentions to start off slow.
The man above him leans in, placing a soft kiss beneath his ear. Worries his earlobe between his teeth. “Would you have preferred if I fucked you entirely without?” he whispers, finger easing all the way inside.
Jiyan has no quick and witty retort, nothing to say at all besides gasp as his mind blanks out, legs squirming against the intrusion. The older man doesn’t grant him much reprieve before he starts giving a few experimental thrusts of his finger, his mouth planting kisses along his jaw, his neck, the junction of his shoulder. He wishes he could feel them against his bare skin, but he feels himself relax back into the grass nonetheless, the tension in his body dissipating slightly.
A second finger quickly joins the first, and the stretch burns deliciously as Geshu Lin starts gingerly testing the give of his insides, a soft puff of laughter against his neck when he feels Jiyan squeeze around him.
“Hm, I wonder…”
Oh, no. Jiyan was having such a good time.
“If you’re so set on not wanting to be a soldier, perhaps we could find another purpose for you,” he muses, teeth digging into the side of Jiyan’s throat. If this guy leaves visible marks or ruins his shirt, he will have to kill him.
…afterwards.
“What?”
Jiyan jumps a little as Geshu Lin finally finds the sweet spot he’s been searching for. The pads of his fingers rub in circles against it, and temporarily forgets he’s supposed to be on guard as he moans in delight, sweet pleasure licking at his spine. Spreads his legs a little wider, eyes fluttering closed.
“I was thinking you could provide some stress relief for our troops instead. You’re already such a natural at this, I’m sure you’d be very popular.”
“Just—ah, shit—“ Geshu Lin slides in a third finger, and Jiyan feels breathless with the way he fills him. He grabs at the other man’s hair and yanks in response, but he stays undeterred in the crook of Jiyan’s neck, humming to himself as he resumes languidly easing those fingers in and out of him. Forming even a single coherent sentence is getting increasingly challenging.
“Just because you can’t keep your hands off me doesn’t mean everyone… mm, has the same degenerate ideas as you do,” he says, with a lot less bite than he would’ve wished. It’s surprisingly difficult when the perpetrator has three fingers inside you. “Not like you could stand to share me, anyway.”
“Hmm.”
Geshu Lin slips his fingers out to sit up straight, and Jiyan feels himself clench around nothing. He’s fairly certain his disappointment is palpable.
“Too bad. What a morale booster you would have been.” He snickers, and that’s the last of him that Jiyan sees before he’s casually flipped onto his stomach, immediately pulled up to his knees. Of course.
“Do we have to do it like this?” Jiyan mutters, pressing his feverish forehead against the cool grass. The feeling of being so exposed in this position was always overwhelming, and yet the anticipation that has been steadily building within made him wish he would just get on with it already. At least his own face was hidden from view. One less thing to worry about.
Geshu Lin pries the younger man’s legs open again, running his hands up his thighs as he settles between them. “We do. Remember, you have no say in how this goes.”
“General…”
“No touching yourself, either. You come on my cock, or not at all.”
Jiyan groans, feels himself leak at the image painted so vividly in his mind. At this point he might be the one who dies first. “You’re just bullying me.”
“You asked for it, I’m just giving you what you want.” He hears rustling behind him as Geshu Lin unbuckles his own belts, and the obscene noise as he slicks himself up has Jiyan shivering. Resolutely decides not to look back.
All the frustration, anger and longing Jiyan has been carrying roll off his shoulders when Geshu Lin finally pushes inside of him, and he sobs loudly as he feels the slow and steady drag against his walls, reaching deeper than fingers ever could. It’s a surprisingly comfortable fullness despite the other man’s more than considerable size, and he relishes in the way they slot together so perfectly every time, like a homecoming he never knew he was looking forward to in the first place.
Not that he would ever tell him that. Stroking his ego just makes him even more insufferable.
The general takes a moment to let them both settle into the feeling after bottoming out, but that’s all the grace Jiyan gets before he pulls out and slams back in with such force it knocked the breath out of his lungs immediately anyway. His moans are interspersed with gasps as Geshu Lin puts his hands on his hips and works up a punishing rhythm, the wet and filthy sound of their coupling embarrassingly loud—if Jiyan even had the mental faculties to acknowledge it, which was slipping further away with every thrust into his overly eager body.
Jiyan can’t stop the mewl that escapes his throat when the man above him finds his prostate again, toes curling in complete bliss as he quickly melts into the feeling. Geshu Lin expertly angles himself to drag against it, over and over. So good, so good, so good—
“You really missed me, didn't you?” Geshu Lin asks, the rasp of his voice deceptively sweet as he slows down minutely, running a hand down Jiyan’s lower back. Jiyan barely registers it, has to forcibly pull himself back to the surface from the warm and comfortable headspace he had relaxed into.
“Don’t… ahh, flatter yourself,” he pants, dirt digging into his fingernails as he tries to get some leverage to push back against him, silently asking him to pick up the speed again. Geshu Lin merely tightens his hold on his hips to still him, refusing him once more as he slows down to grind against him. The younger man writhes in his grasp as the dizzying pleasure he felt rolled over him in waves, feeling each and every inch of Geshu Lin grinding into his sweet spot instead. Jerk.
“No need.” Jiyan’s tormentor leans over to run a finger along the open section of his shirt—dangerously close, too fucking close—to his Tacet Mark. Dipping his finger underneath, pulling at the tight elastic fabric and letting it snap back in place, “You squeezing me for dear life tells me everything I need to know.”
He suddenly feels Geshu Lin’s hot breath just an inch away from his Tacet Mark, long silver hair tickling against his back, and he whimpers as he has to force himself to keep breathing. Trapped, Jiyan feels his own pulse rabbiting in his throat, knees threatening to collapse under him.
Then he feels Geshu Lin dragging his tongue hard along the length of his Tacet Mark, and with a twist of his hips as he grinds into him just right, he has Jiyan screaming wordlessly as he comes, all the tension in his body snapping in an instant.
Jiyan is pretty certain he must have blacked out for just a second or two, because when he comes to he’s still being rocked gently by Geshu Lin’s thrusts, mercifully letting him ride out the blissful remnants of his orgasm. He tries to say something, anything, but his mind supplies him with nothing of usefulness as molten pleasure eventually bleeds into oversensitivity, breath stuttering as he trembles. With all of his limbs now completely useless, the only thing still holding him up is Geshu Lin’s firm grip on his hips.
“Jiyan. Still with me?”
“Please…”
Geshu Lin chuckles behind him, and with an uncharacteristically gentle caress of his lover’s waist, pulls out. The relief is immense despite the sudden emptiness, but lasts only for a second before he’s flipped onto his back again, hissing against the grass rubbing against his sore and abused Tacet Mark. He vaguely registers that his own hair had been released from its ponytail at some point as it splays beneath him.
Excitement surges back within him as he gets a good look at Geshu Lin for the first time in what feels like ages, sees the dusted pink of his cheeks and his flushed chest peeking out from underneath his black top. Golden eyes still heavy-lidded and dark with desire, peering curiously into his own. Jiyan’s eyes trail further down, sees the main source of his pleasure, still imposingly hard.
Ah, shit.
Geshu Lin flashes him a cold smirk as he repositions Jiyan’s legs around his waist and aligns himself with his slick and pliant entrance once more, still holding his gaze as he pushes back in. Actual tears start forming in the corners of his eyes as he bites back a sob, grasping desperately at one of Geshu Lin’s arms to anchor himself. This asshole really was treating him like a cheap sex toy, and he’s definitely not going to acknowledge the tingle of arousal he feels over that realisation.
“You always feel so good around me when you come. So tight and warm,” he praises as he bottoms out again, sighing. Idly rubs a thumb against Jiyan’s tender rim, where their bodies connected.
“Mm, if you refuse to service anyone else… perhaps I should simply keep you tied up in my bed instead.” There is a certain almost imperceptible tightness to Geshu Lin’s voice, signalling that he is far more gone than he lets on.
Jiyan moans at the suggestion, feels like he surely has no more blood for him to blush as much as he already is, and his own seriously traitorous dick twitches with renewed interest. He really is going to die first.
“Would you prefer that?” he asks, curious lilt to his voice as he resumes his pace, his free hand back to exploring Jiyan’s chest, pinching a nipple through the sweat soaked fabric. This position awarded him more access to paw at every part of Jiyan’s body, and he squirms under the attention as pleasure slowly starts coiling tight inside him once more.
“Flattering, but you… oh, mm, really wouldn’t get any work done. Our defences would collapse within a day because the General is, fuck—otherwise occupied,” Jiyan hissed, feet digging into the back of Geshu Lin at a particularly hard thrust, fingernails raking red and angry scores into his shoulder blades.
Geshu Lin laughs breathlessly again, and Jiyan notices immediately how his demeanour shifts just as those thrusts begin to slam against his oversensitive prostate head on, shooting sparks of pleasure-pain up his spine that leaves his legs spasming in the other man’s grasp.
He didn’t have to look to know he was stiff and leaking again, and he cries out at the renewed energy Geshu Lin is screwing him with, his own neglected dick bouncing against his stomach whenever he drove into him. It took all of his rapidly decreasing self control to not reach down and touch himself.
Surprising that no one—TD or otherwise—had found them yet, with how loud they were being. Geshu Lin picking this particular spot to spar was clearly more than just an afterthought. Trust this man to never do anything half-heartedly.
“Always enjoyed that brilliant mind of yours. Whenever I haven’t temporarily fucked it out of you, that is.” Another hard snap of his hips as he brings Jiyan down on him, impaling him, “Still needs some work, since you’re still talking.”
You’re the one constantly monologuing, Jiyan wants to answer, but the force of his thrusts renders it impossible to do anything but moan. A veteran Resonator’s strength and stamina was truly something else.
The hold Geshu Lin now has on his hip was bruising, and his head starts swimming again as he feels himself dangerously close to the precipice of another orgasm. He belatedly wishes he could kiss him, but Geshu Lin keeps pinning him down with ease—the arrogant display of sheer strength was usually a turn-on, but annoyance starts to gnaw at him again the more he denies him, even as his breath hitches with the full on abuse his body is taking.
The glimmering of Geshu Lin’s Tacet Mark catches Jiyan’s attention once more as the other man leans over him, and he licks his lips. Well. It’s gonna cost him some dignity, but he really needs both of them to come soon before he goes insane.
Reaching out with his hand, he grasps the back of the other man’s neck, bringing him even closer. Geshu Lin feels so warm under his touch, and he feels his thrumming pulse beneath his fingertips as he angles him to gain better access. Jiyan’s lips graze over the glowing Tacet Mark before he greedily gives into the impulse he’s been pushing down all afternoon, peppering sloppy, wet kisses against the expanse of it. The resulting broken groan in his ears was exhilarating, “Jiyan, you…”
“Won’t you fill me up, General?” he whispers, lets his sharp canines dig deep into the sensitive skin. Makes a pointed effort to squeeze hard around the cock inside him as well, just for good measure.
Mesmerised, Jiyan settles back a little to watch Geshu Lin’s widened eyes, feels the other man’s hips stutter against him as he gasps. Saves that exquisite image in his brain for future use. Trimmed yet sharp nails dig into the soft flesh of Jiyan’s inner thigh as he’s pushed over the edge, burying himself as deep as possible as he spills inside of him. The flood of warmth and the short, grinding thrusts of Geshu Lin riding out his own orgasm was very thankfully just enough to tide Jiyan over, all-encompassing pleasure seeping into his bones.
They both take a good while to come down from their respective highs, and Jiyan relishes in the way their breathing in unison fills the silence. Geshu Lin had bracketed his arms on either side of Jiyan in a quite frankly very sweet effort to not crush him with his weight, but he decides he has had enough of not being able to touch the man he hasn’t seen in three weeks properly. He throws an arm around the other man’s shoulders to coax him down further, and Geshu Lin relents silently, bonelessly splaying himself on top of Jiyan’s warm body.
The weight and press of him against his own body felt so good even with all the annoying layers of clothing still separating them, and Jiyan buries his nose in the crook of his neck. Breathes in sweat and Geshu Lin’s own unique scent, lets his fingers scratch lightly against the other man’s scalp. The older man hums, a hand absentmindedly rubbing circles around Jiyan’s hip bone, almost as if in apology for the bruise he knows is forming there.
With emphasis on “almost", because it’s a lot more likely that he is proud of leaving his mark on him. Bastard. A stray thought of how he’s supposed to hide that hand shaped bruise from the others in his squadron flits across his mind, and leaves just as quickly. He’s had enough thinking for today.
When Geshu Lin shifts to pull out of him, Jiyan uses the remainders of his strength to lock his legs around the other man's waist, keeping him inside. “Give me a minute, would you,” he rasps, voice now unbelievably hoarse. His mind feels pleasantly empty, even if his poor back would’ve appreciated a soft bed right about now. Their eyes meet for a moment, and there’s no heat behind them anymore.
Jiyan’s gaze flicks downwards, to the angry reddening mark on Geshu Lin’s throat, feeling slightly crazed at the sight of it. Maybe he does feel a little proud, too. Just a little.
“So needy,” Geshu Lin remarks, but allows himself to be pulled into a kiss nonetheless. They no longer kiss with any intent other than to lazily explore each other, and Jiyan sighs happily as the other man slips his tongue inside. Geshu Lin is surprisingly acquiescent when he’s satisfied, and he offers no protests when Jiyan boldly moves to slot his fingers in between his own.
Reluctantly breaking the kiss after a while, “You hear that too, right?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it coming from?”
“You. You’ve never noticed it before?” Geshu Lin smirks, suddenly ever so entertained. Jiyan’s mere existence seems to be enough to amuse him these days.
Jiyan blinks. When he thinks back on it, it is a vaguely familiar, humming sound. Not particularly loud. To be completely fair to himself, his brain closed for business a while ago.
“You’re purring,” Geshu Lin supplies, very unhelpfully.
“What.”
“You know, like a cat.”
“I know what the word means, what do you mean—“
The glimmer of amusement is now clearly evident in the general’s golden eyes, “Some Huanglong dragons do as well. It’s not an uncommon mutation, Jiyan.”
Oh, no. That’s mortifying. He feels his face burn with the force of a thousand suns as he stares back at him, incredulously. Thinks about how many others would have heard it. About all the times the most annoying person in the world could have heard it and not said anything.
“I just came inside you, and this is what embarrasses you?” Jiyan smacks him weakly on the shoulder, groaning as he hides his face with his other hand.
“Don’t get any weird ideas. It doesn’t mean I like you at all, it’s…” he waves his hand noncommittally, “clearly involuntary.”
The older Resonator laughs now, and he shifts to sit up properly, pulling out as he does so. Stretches leisurely. Jiyan quietly observes how the black tank top rides up a little with the movement, exposing just a sliver of his stomach.
It’s exceedingly rare to catch him in as good of a mood as he’s been in ever since they met up earlier that day. Even more perplexing because Jiyan had heard from one of the men in his unit that Geshu Lin was absolutely glowering at anyone who dared stand in his way when he had returned back from Norfall Barrens that same morning, and he’s not sure what to make of it yet.
“Your cute little body says otherwise.”
Ugh.
Jiyan really has gone through too many ordeals in one day, wishing for some cosmic intervention that never seems to come. Must have done something downright awful in a past life to deserve this.
He sighs, resigned, arms flopping to his sides. “Whatever. I’ll beat you next time, General.”
That rapt look in Geshu Lin’s eyes was back in an instant, narrowing with interest.
“I look forward to it.”