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It’s a warm day on the Luofu.
Sunlight spills like honey through the windows of Jing Yuan’s private estate, stretching itself long on the wood panel floors. Perched upon a cushion large enough for his frame, Jing Yuan sits cross-legged next to the special table he uses for his chessboard.
He’s already calculated a plethora of strategies in his mind, a solution in place for any sequence of moves. With over seven hundred years of experience under his belt, starchess has long since become child’s play for him.
One would think anyone would bore after literal centuries of the same game, but not Jing Yuan.
Because in truth, while he does enjoy the game itself, it’s his opponents that make every match interesting. More than just a mental exercise, Jing Yuan loves reading into people’s moves. Analyzing not just their favoured strategy, but the feelings hidden behind every shift of a single piece.
It’s fun, and no doubt one of the reasons Jing Yuan has remained so well-versed in diplomatic matters throughout his long run as the Luofu’s Arbiter General.
Right now though, he’s less interested in analyzing his opponent than he is simply staring at him.
There’s a gentle furrow between Dan Heng’s brow. Nothing drastic, just a faint dip in the skin there to signify his concentration. He’s also pushing his bottom lip forward, a barely there pout that Jing Yuan will never comment on lest Dan Heng make the effort not to repeat it in the future.
He’s shed the appearance he usually keeps up when walking the Luofu’s streets in favour of his Vidyadharan features. Matching teal, nearly translucent tail and horns glistening under the early afternoon sun.
He’s been doing that more and more lately. Letting his draconic self show whenever he visits Jing Yuan.
The thought that Dan Heng feels comfortable enough around him to let his guard down, to reveal what he mostly prefers to keep hidden under a more human-like shell, makes warmth bloom in Jing Yuan’s chest. Even if in the deepest parts of his soul he prefers not to acknowledge, a healed over scar aches with melancholy at the familiar sight.
When Jing Yuan responds to Dan Heng’s next move, the few seconds he takes in between just for show, he watches the corner of Dan Heng’s twitch downwards.
A hint of a tremor passes through Jing Yuan’s shoulders as he suppresses a chuckle, masking it behind a cough. Dan Heng’s gaze flickers towards him, but when his eyes narrow they flash not with annoyance, but concern.
“. . . Are you alright, gege?”
Jing Yuan smiles, so full of love it might as well be bursting out of every pore by now. His heart stumbles over the next few beats, still not used to the endearment even though it’s been months now since Dan Heng started using it.
He shakes his head, waving off the younger’s misplaced worry. “I’m fine, I promise.”
Seemingly appeased, Dan Heng’s head lowers as he returns to studying the board. Ever the scholar, he sees the game as more than a simple indulgence of Jing Yuan’s whims, using it to sharpen his skills. Jing Yuan finds his concentration ridiculously endearing.
Letting a quiet sigh pass through his nose, Jing Yuan props an elbow on his knees, taking to admiring Dan Heng once more.
The strands of his silken hair have been pushed behind the pointed tip of his ears, preventing them from falling into his eyes. It exposes more of his face; the narrow stretch of his nose, the gentle dip that marks his cupid’s bow, the strokes of red that make the glow of teal eyes stand out beneath dark lashes.
And then, there are his horns.
Jing Yuan can’t seem to stop his gaze from wandering towards them. Living evidence of Loong’s legacy, of the non-human blood that flows through Dan Heng’s veins. Each minute shift of his head causes the light to refract off the glass-like surface, scattering small white spots across the nearby wall.
Back then, in a time now buried beneath the stain on the Luofu’s history, Jing Yuan remembers touching Dan Feng’s horns.
He remembers running his hands over their surface, feeling the smooth firmness beneath his palm. He recalls the sounds Dan Feng made in response as well, each gasp and grunt and moan like a faraway echo in his mind. Like a brand he’ll never quite be able to cut out of his skin.
Jing Yuan hasn’t touched Dan Heng’s horns yet.
Despite the fact that their budding relationship has already crossed the boundaries of intimacy on more than one occasion, Jing Yuan hesitates. A Vidyadhara’s horns are very sensitive to any sort of stimulation, and many of them prefer not to be touched there at all, going so far as to keep them hidden permanently from view.
It requires a lot of trust to let someone that close, especially one who isn’t a fellow Vidyadhara. And Jing Yuan had worked so hard to earn Dan Heng’s trust after his return home, the home Jing Yuan had once sent him from, that he can’t bring himself to risk losing it.
So, he bites his tongue.
Still, his hand twitches with the urge to reach out.
He moves another chess piece into place instead. Dan Heng sighs, two of his fingers rubbing at the hollow space under his jaw.
“No matter how many times we’ve played this, it seems I can never truly predict what your next move will be.”
Jing Yuan lets out a soft laugh, leaning forward to rest his arms on the edge of the table. “That’s only because I’ve had many, many years to master this game. You’re a formidable player, Dan Heng, I promise. It’s just that your opponent is an old man who’s had far too much time to perfect his strategies.”
“You’re not that old. . .” Dan Heng mutters, and there’s an edge to his voice that suggests he’s almost offended on Jing Yuan’s behalf.
The corners of Jing Yuan’s mouth curve up, but he says nothing else. Once again, he takes advantage of Dan Heng’s focused state to let his eyes wander up, this time lingering for longer on the gently curved protrusions.
He doesn't realise his hand has stretched upward of its own accord until Dan Heng shifts.
Jing Yuan retreats as quick as he can, head ducked down. As if he were a young child once more, afraid of a scolding after breaking some unspoken rule. A cowardly habit he’d foolishly believed he’d grown out of a long time ago.
“. . . Gege?”
A heavy sigh builds in the back of Jing Yuan’s throat. He keeps it there, forcing a pleasant smile as he meets Dan Heng’s mildly confused gaze.
“Ah, forgive me, I. . . It’s nothing.”
His hope for a dismissal of his brief lapse in restraint is promptly snuffed out when Dan Heng’s brows furrow. Suddenly, a hand crosses the space between them to wrap around Jing Yuan’s wrist, pressure just shy of too tight.
“You were about to reach for my horns, weren’t you?”
Jing Yuan swallows down the taste of shame, feels heat creep up his neck under Dan Heng’s scrutiny. It has always weighed on him, the way the Vidyadhara’s unrelenting stare would so easily break past his defences, rendering him vulnerable. It left him with no chance to deflect, no solution but to tell the truth.
“Yes, I was. . .”
He’s about to apologise anew when he’s tugged forward, nearly sending some of the chess pieces scattering to the floor. They wobble precariously on the board, and Jing Yuan feels himself strangely identified with their unsteady state.
“So, why didn’t you?”
“Because I— I assumed that—”
“You shouldn’t assume,” Dan Heng cuts him off, never breaking eye contact. There’s something so authoritative about his tone that Jing Yuan feels liquid heat pools in his lower stomach at the sound. “Nor should you place thoughts in my mind that I haven’t said aloud. If you want something from me, then ask, gege.”
So, Jing Yuan really had found himself chastised. He can’t say he minds all that much, oddly enough. A smile spreads on his lips, more genuine this time.
“You’re right. . . I’ve been foolish,” he admits, movements slow as he breaks from Dan Heng’s hold. “Then. . . may I touch?”
This time, it’s Dan Heng’s turn to blush. It’s a barely-there thing, his draconic nature rendering his body temperature low, his blood not flowing the way a regular human’s does. Still, a touch of colour rests at the corner of his eyes as he inclines his head in answer.
Jing Yuan’s breath hitches when his fingertips first glide over the teal surface. Even though he’s felt it before — on a different man, in a different lifetime — it’s as if he were doing it for the first time all over again. Much like the horns of an animal, they are sturdy under his touch, though the infusion of cloudhymn magic makes them thrum. Pulsing faintly with power, alive.
His thumb rubs gentle circles near the gold bands that sit at the horns base, and Dan Heng makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Careful, Jing Yuan drags his fingers upwards, featherlight, to the tip where the turquoise colouring is faintest.
His gaze flickers down when Dan Heng muffles a moan by biting his lip. Jing Yuan suppresses a shiver at the arousing sigh; it seems the younger is even more sensitive than he’d thought.
Still, if he’s holding himself back this much, Jing Yuan fears he might be too embarrassed.
“We can stop if it’s too much. . ?” He offers, voice softened to barely above a whisper.
He almost flinches when Dan Heng’s head snaps up, their eyes meeting, Dan Heng’s pupils already dilated. Jing Yuan watches, patiently, as the younger seems to war with himself for a moment. “I don’t want you to. . .”
Before Jing Yuan can answer, Dan Heng pulls him forward again. The general gets the hint, a gentle, somewhat amused smile on his face as he rounds the small table between them so he can sit on the pillow beside Dan Heng instead.
“Alright. But then. . .” Jing Yuan leans closer, resuming his ministrations as he traces patterns on Dan Heng’s horns. “Don’t restrain yourself so much. . . let me hear you.”
He lets his breath ghost against the shell of Dan Heng’s ear, “I want to hear you.”
Dan Heng groans in response, lashes fluttering. “Gege. . .”
“That’s it.” With a quiet hum, Jing Yuan lightly scratches his blunt nails across the graceful curve of one of the antlers, watching the dam break further as Dan Heng’s mouth drops open to pant.
“Ah— Ngh, Yuan-ge. . .”
The rasp in Dan Heng’s voice makes the coil in Jing Yuan’s lower stomach wind itself tighter, skin buzzing with the weight of his desire, his want. He brushes some of the dark strands from Dan Heng’s face, swallowing down the spit that’s gathered in his mouth before he speaks.
“. . . Can I try something else?”
When Dan Heng gives his permission, Jing Yuan lifts his head, pressing a few chaste kisses along the horn closest to him. He hears the low rumble Dan Heng lets out, hand curling in Jing Yuan’s shirt. Feeling emboldened, Jing Yuan parts his lips to swipe his tongue over the smooth, tepid surface.
As soon as he does, Jing Yuan is yanked onto Dan Heng’s lap with a startling amount of force.
He gasps as he’s pulled flush against the younger, his thighs spread wider so their groins press together. Dan Heng is rock-hard beneath him, the outline of his cock visible through his pants, and Jing Yuan’s head spins with the sudden wave of arousal that hits him.
“Keep going,” Dan Heng commands, tone caught somewhere between gruff and strained.
Jing Yuan doesn’t hesitate to obey. His palms cup either side of Dan Heng’s jaw, tilting his head so he can angle himself better. Lips pursed, Jing Yuan moans contentedly as he starts to suckle at the base of one of Dan Heng’s horns, licking at the glasslike protrusions, driven by the urge to worship the Vidyadhara’s features.
Grunts and whimpers echo in the room as Dan Heng grows louder, more unrestrained. His hands roam over Jing Yuan’s body, grabbing at whichever part of him he can reach, digging his fingers into the strong, thick thighs that bracket his hips.
“Gege.” He whines when Jing Yuan shifts his attention to the other antler, teeth gently grazing every sensitive spot, the heat of the older’s tongue almost unbearable.
Growing impatient, Dan Heng starts to grope Jing Yuan’s ass, squeezing at the firm muscle and clawing at the fabric that covers it. A growl forms in the back of his throat, feeling Jing Yuan lift further to wrap his lips around the tip of his horn, and something in him snaps.
“Sorry about this—”
“What—?” There’s no chance for Jing Yuan to ask his question before the noise of fabric tearing cuts him off as Dan Heng rips a hole right through his pants and underwear.
Heat rises to Jing Yuan’s face, the tips of his ears tinged pink at the sudden rush of air against his bare skin. His head dips to press against Dan Heng’s neck, muffling the quite frankly pathetic whimper he lets out.
“I’ll pay for a new pair,” The younger mutters. He wastes no time in summoning water to swirl around his fingers and infusing it with just enough cloudhymn magic to turn viscous. Sliding his digits between the cleft of Jing Yuan’s ass, he presses his fingertips to the tight ring of muscle.
Jing Yuan groans, a strangled chuckle spilling from the back of his throat. The last thing in the world he cares about right now are his clothes, much more focused on the way his body tenses and shivers as Dan Heng slowly pushes into him.
Fighting past the fog of pleasure that threatens to engulf him, Jing Yuan trails his lips back up the side of Dan Heng’s face. He lingers on the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, even presses a gentle kiss to the outer corner of Dan Heng’s eye until he finds the base of his horns once again.
Dan Heng’s arm shifts to wrap firmly around Jing Yuan’s waist, his grip tight enough that their chests press together. A dragon hoarding its treasure. Possessive.
Beads of sweat travel down to Jing Yuan’s throat, hair sticking to his forehead and nape, the heat almost unbearable. Jing Yuan can’t find it in himself to care, far too focused on licking and sucking every single inch of Dan Heng’s antlers he can reach. Every one of his efforts earns him another thrust of the younger’s fingers, now buried deep and prodding around for his sweet spot.
They feed off each other’s arousal, building and building. It seems endless, this pleasure, caught in a loop like a snake that swallows its own tail.
The noises that echo in the room border on obscene, each squelch and slurp barely drowned out by their moans. Were he still in his rational mind, Jing Yuan would worry about possibly scarring any member of his staff who might pass by too close to the closed door, aware that the wood is far from soundproof.
Like this, however, none of those thoughts cross his mind.
All he can think about is the feeling of their bodies moulding together, hearts beating in the same rhythm, their desperation mounting with every second that passes. Arms locked around Dan Heng’s neck, Jing Yuan starts to grind down in earnest, chasing his own pleasure between Dan Heng’s lap and fingers.
“Ahh, Gege, wait—”
Dan Heng keens in a tone Jing Yuan has never heard before, biting down on Jing Yuan’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. Jing Yuan’s lips part in a gasp, though it’s not prompted by the pain, but instead by how he can feel Dan Heng’s cock pulse beneath him as the younger comes, shuddering through his orgasm with a growl that borders on animalistic.
Ducking down, Jing Yuan rests their foreheads together as he watches the damp spot on the front of Dan Heng’s pants spread, fabric darkening slowly.
They’re both breathing heavily, inhaling each other’s air. Jing Yuan makes no move to continue, his own arousal taking a backseat now as he lets Dan Heng gather himself, content in the knowledge he was able to bring the younger pleasure.
“Feel good. . ?” He asks softly, tilting his head further so their gazes can meet.
He doesn’t get a glimpse of Dan Heng’s eyes, however, vision flipped as he’s suddenly pressed onto the floor. Though the movement is harsh, Dan Heng shields him from any harm by cupping the back of his head so it doesn’t thud against the unforgiving wood.
Eyes wide, Jing Yuan is left momentarily disoriented as Dan Heng hovers above him. The Vidyadhara shoves his thighs apart to settle between them, the look on his face predatory.
“You didn’t think we’d just end this here, did you?”
Jing Yuan breaks into a smile, chuckling airily, the sound both fond and slightly amused. His hands settle on Dan Heng’s arms at either side of his head, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “I’m fine with anything as long as it’s with you, you know that.”
Huffing through his nose, Dan Heng leans in to mouth at the older’s jaw. “You’re far too indulgent. I should teach you to be more selfish. . .”
At that, Jing Yuan lets out another laugh. He runs his hands through Dan Heng’s hair, enjoying the way the silken strands slip between his fingers. “Mm. Perhaps. . .”
Shifting to propping himself up on his elbows, Dan Heng locks gazes with him once more. His brows are set in a sharp line, a quiet danger lingering in the depths of faintly glowing eyes that makes Jing Yuan’s stomach swoop.
“I’m going to keep you here for the rest of the day. . . You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”
Jing Yuan feels his own dick twitch at the words, arms returning to their place around Dan Heng’s neck to pull him closer. “Right here? On the living room floor?”
Hands hooking under Jing Yuan’s knees, Dan Heng pushes his legs up and forces him to bend, exposing the large tear in the fabric of his pants. “I can fuck you anywhere. You know that, gege.”
A new wave of heat creeps up Jing Yuan’s neck, blush settling across the bridge of his nose. The chuckle that leaves him is half-surprised, half-aroused.
“. . . My Dan Heng has gotten so bold,” he mumbles, refusing to look away from the man above him despite the way Dan Heng’s intense stare threatens to drown him. “I fear I’ve been a bad influence on you. . .”
The Vidyadhara shakes his head, pressing closer still so Jing Yuan can feel the outline of his cock, already hard once more, flush against his entrance. He swallows, a spark of anticipation curling in his stomach at the knowledge that Dan Heng’s promise of keeping him here all day is likely no exaggeration.
“Untrue,” Dan Heng replies.
He leans in to slot their lips together in a languid kiss, one of his hands traveling down to tug Jing Yuan’s shirt free, slipping under the hem to rub his abdomen. The action makes Jing Yuan shiver, mourning the wet heat of Dan Heng’s mouth when they break apart.
“I’ve always been bold,” he continues. “It’s just I’ve lost the need to hold back when I’m with you.”
Jing Yuan can’t help but smile at that.
“Well then, do keep showing me how bold you are, A-Heng.”
Dan Heng’s lips curl to reveal a rare grin, planting another kiss to the corner of Jing Yuan’s mouth as he works on undoing the buttons of the general’s shirt.
“Oh. . . I plan to.”