[He says nothing in response at first, too focused on what is happening, especially once he feels that beautiful arch of Xingchen's body under him. His mouth is too dry to talk, even if he'd wanted to, and there haven't been many times in life that he'd been speechless.
Not that it matters right now. What matters other than the movement beneath him? Still, his instincts are well-honed and he has been wrestling on the streets as far back as he can remember, so it is a conscious decision when he does let Xingchen switch their position. Looking up, it is his turn to arch his body, at the same time as he lifts his eyebrows.]
Seems like you are up as well, daozhang~ [Yes, together with that teasing lilt, his speech has returned.]
[The ease with which he switches their positions takes Xingchen by surprise, so when they do roll over he can't stop from collapsing on top of his friend. Of course, his wrists are still clutched in the other man's grip, too, so he can't exactly prop himself up, either.
With their legs tangled and the rest of their bodies flush, Xingchen can feel practically every movement below him, intentional and otherwise. So. Needless to say, when his friend copies him from just moments before, it leaves little to the imagination. And Xingchen was right. He's earned those questionable words.
He buries his head against his friend's shoulder and breathes out heavily, trying to ignore what's going on. He also tries to pull his hands free so he can at least make some semblance of getting ready for the day.]
[That's a reason to tighten his grip, whereas before it had mostly just been a light hold. Now he actually wants Xingchen to stay in his grip, turning his head at the same time to press his lips against where he's marked him before. This time he bites down - if only lightly - while he shifts his hips, moves under him, chasing friction.
There is no need to think much beyond this moment, beyond what he's looking for.
He wants. Wants him, so badly.]
should we warn for horny? we should probably warn for horny.
[Sure, it might have been easy to flip their positions, but his luck clearly isn't working for two successful escapes this morning. He still tries to tug his hands free, even if he knows it's probably futile until his friend grows bored or distracted by something else, but immediately stops when he feels lips on his neck.
Lips, and teeth. And they're joined by the writhing body underneath his own and before Xingchen can even properly process anything that's happening, a moan escapes his throat. The sound is loud in his ears and Xingchen freezes, mortified. Did anyone hear? Does anyone see their undeniably compromising position?
This really is not the time or place.
Feeling his face, his neck, probably his entire body flush from embarrassment - and an ignored desire - Xingchen tries to pull away from the mouth at his neck, even as he whispers.]
[It's just a whisper and it would be easily ignored. Maybe should be, because how serious can Xingchen really be about it, when it is just whispered like that?
But there's something about his gentle voice that cuts through like nothing else could. How long as he dreamed of hearing that voice again? In that tone, directed to him, it's unlikely to happen that much more often.
That reality is sobering enough that he lowers his head, a shuddering breath against Xingchen's shoulder, his head to the side. He holds still under him, but it is an effort.]
[Oh. That worked. Xingchen still lies there, though, a little hesitant to move in case his friend changes his mind and wants to be obstinate again, but eventually, he breathes in and angles his face lower.
What happens next could be explained by any number of excuses. Xingchen is still tired and having been woken up in such a sudden way leaves his mind pretty addled. Or maybe it's an effect of his friend's body pressed against his own and everything unsaid, but still clear hovering around them. Perhaps he's just crazy and his mountain upbringing is rearing its strange head.
Whatever the case, Xingchen gently nuzzles his friend's cheek, until the tip of his nose bumps against a jawline. And, without thinking, Xingchen presses his lips so softly to that ridge, just for a moment, and responds to the allegations in a quiet voice.]
Mm. My apologies.
[...They really can't lie here like this forever, though. So, once more, he tries to tug his wrists free, albeit more gently this time, not as urgently.
His heartbeat, however, hammers in his chest. He's sure his friend is able to feel it, too.]
[Of course his heart is beating fast as well, but he's ignoring that, just as he is ignoring that tightness in his chest that has turned painful at the feeling of Xingchen pressing his lips against him. His eyes burn, so he presses them shut tightly, and he swallows to keep that tightness in his chest from spreading to his throat.
Of course, lower parts of his body are having reactions he understands a lot better, but for now he refrains from arching, turning hia head instead. So close to Xingchen's face, he suddenly leans in and quickly licks his lips, letting out a quiet laugh immediately after.]
Ah, daozhang! You taste so sweet, you have cured me.
[And then he quite suddenly lets go of Xingchen's wrists to brace his arms against the ground instead, to thrust himself up and try to turn them around. Whether that succeeds or not, he is immediately back to pressing against him, this time in order to whisper by his ear.]
[His bout of bravery does not prepare Xingchen to be licked. He gasps and stills, giving his friend ample time and opportunity to get Xingchen where he wants him. So, of course, Xingchen ends up on his back again, though at least now he has use of his hands.
Hands, which now automatically find his friend's waist, neither holding him in place or pushing him away as he does his best to eliminate all space between their bodies. Even if he does manage to get his friend to behave - doubtful - Xingchen knows he's going to have to...take care of things anyway. There are certainly worse ways to wake up, but there are better ways, too. He's just not mentally equipped to deal with his body's reactions right now and, what's worse, he is sure his friend can feel what this early moment "spar" has done to him.
Letting his head fall heavily back against the ground, Xingchen lets out a huff of air and whispers his reply in turn, though he goes for a much different effect.]
You can owe me later. When we're not here.
[Here, of course, being out among the other caravan members and the ghost army and in real, actual danger.
He tightens his hands on his friend's waist and tries to push him off.]
[A huff is the answer to Xingchen's whisper, followed by heavy breaths against his neck as Xue Yang fights to control what feels like a fire within him. Burning with desire, apparently more than just an empty phrase. He can't remember ever before having wanted like this. Not anything.
Not sweets, not revenge, nothing has ever made him feel this urgency. How much he wants to be with Xingchen, to feel him, to have him in all ways. To be his. Maybe the urgency is fuelled by his knowledge of how limited their time is. It is what makes his chest feel tight and what made his eyes burn, not that he realises that. Not that anyone is likely to realise, because Xingchen is blind and can't see red-rimmed eyes from tears that fell without awareness and no one else is close enough.
All Xue Yang knows and understands right now is his body's need and his hot breath against freshly marked skin is testimony of that.
Knowing that he has to stand up in order to win this, he braces his hands against the ground and lifts himself, eyes on Xingchen beneath him. He moves his hips, just once, grinding down, then he forces himself off of him, getting to his feet and looking down. Beautiful sight.]
Are you hot, daozhang? You look flushed.
[The gentle mocking tone is back, but his voice still hoarse enough to badly mask his desire.]
[Even though his friend seems to be backing off - finally - Xingchen still braces himself for some sort of tease or retaliation because he knows his friend doesn't just like to walk away from situations, especially those that entertain him.
And Xingchen knows he's a source of nearly constant entertainment for whatever reason.
He's right to prepare himself, though it hardly makes a difference. That roll of his friend's hips, so deliberate and unashamed, makes Xingchen bite down on his lip to hold back the noises desperate to get out. In moments like this, there really is no room to hide. It's obvious they're attracted to each other; surely have been for some time now. And yet they keep dancing around each other, or maybe it's just Xingchen who keeps himself lightfooted out of...what? Insecurity? Fear?
...Guilt?
When he's relieved of the weight of his friend, Xingchen lets out a breath, trying to compose himself as he lies there, undoubtedly looking disheveled. And flushed, yes, as his friend helpfully points out. After a moment, he pushes himself up to sit and waves his hand in his friend's direction, neither accepting nor blowing off his question. It's obvious what's going on.
But now that he's up, he slowly gets himself moving. If it's still as early as his friend had said, then most of the others will still be asleep or at least not paying attention to them. So he bows his head and unties the cloth from around his empty eyes so he can comb his fingers through his hair and tame it down after a night's rest. As uncomfortable as it can be, he keeps the cloth on as he sleeps so as not to frighten or disgust anyone else who may see his ruined face. But if there's anyone he can trust not to turn away in fear or discomfort, it's his friend. He knows what Xingchen has done, after all.]
[It's calm breathing that he tries. Calm breaths and the memory of Xingchen's disgust at his existence, which is enough to help him think past his lust. He has to make every moment count, doesn't he?
So he sprints a few step and reaches out to grab Xingchen's wrist, his thumb drawing a gentle circle there, while he looks at Xingchen's face without hesitation. Always beautiful to him.]
Let me help with your hair, daozhang. You are too clumsy to do it yourself.
[If he teases, does it hode how he is just eager to touch? Maybe not, but who cares? They both know.]
[The last thing they probably need right now is to keep touching each other, no matter how innocently, but Xingchen allows his friend to come right back. He doesn't waste his breath on arguing against clumsiness, but he does silently acknowledge, as he so often has, that his friend does his hair better than he himself can do these days, no matter how much practice he's had.
He feels that gaze on him, though, and now that he's practically naked without the cloth, he can't help but be self-conscious, even if his friend won't say anything. So he bows his head further, feeling his hair fall and veil the sides of his head. But as he waits, he holds the cloth in one hand, rubbing the fabric gently between his thumb and fingers. He must be patient.]
Did you not sleep well?
[His own voice is quiet after these moments of disuse, but Xingchen both knows they need to move on from their pre-dawn weaknesses and is concerned why his friend was up so early. It could be nothing. He hopes it was just a fluke, but he wants to know.]
[The initial sound isn't much of an answer, his focus instead on Xingchen's hair, his fingers deftly moving through the silken strands, bringing them into order. The scent that is uniquely Xingchen's, warm and alive and - to him - so sweet makes it hard to think of anything else. Just the moment and touching him.]
Just did not sleep much.
[It is said dismissively, as he can hardly explain to Xingchen that he kept waking when the body near him was warm and alive and not a corpse. That he had to watch him breathe, watch his face, dread the loss and savour every moment, until finally the urge to mark him became too strong.]
Your beauty kept me awake, daozhang. You should be ashamed. What can I do but lose my mind over you? Are you sure you are a daozhang and not a fox spirit?
[As soon as those hands are in his hair, Xingchen feels himself relax. He's still worked up from their tussling, of course, but that need doesn't itch as immediately right now. He leans into the touch, relishing the innocence of it, trusting his friend will make him presentable. Besides, it just feels good. If he still had his eyes, he would have closed them by now. If he were a cat, he'd be purring.
But he is just him and while his friend is obviously avoiding the answer, he doesn't press, just as he's never asked for his name, though Xingchen is so curious as to what it could be. Either way, if his friend isn't comfortable sharing, then Xingchen has no right to pressure him. So he doesn't.
Instead, he gets more teasing, though Xingchen can't help but let his lips quirk up in a small smile. He can't possibly be as beautiful as his friend insists. He's just teasing him, as always, but Xingchen falls into his words and continues falling into his hands. Maybe it's all an exaggeration, but it feels so good to be wanted, even a little bit. Giving himself into the moment, he imagines moving closer, tilting his head just so, and kissing his friend. Thanking him, not just for the indulgent words, but for his help on so many days to look and feel human. Thanking him for his kindness and his loyal companionship.
It's absurd, he knows, which is why he doesn't act on it. He's just had to practically throw his friend off of him before they got themselves into trouble. If he gave in now, Xingchen can't say he'd be able to do it a second time.]
Do not trouble yourself. I'm not clever enough to be a fox.
Eh. No one can tell me there aren't some dumb fox spirits around. There's so many dumb people, why would spirits be any better?
[The way he sees the world, there isn't much deference - not to spirits, not to anything. Not that he thinks his Xingchen a spirit. His daozhang. Not clever, too naive, too assured of being righteous, and most definitely too pretty.
It's a quiet moment then, just them between some gentle teasing, his fingers in Xingchen's hair, tying it, careful to make sure nothing is tangled. It would not take much to lean in and kiss him. His lips, his cheeks, his eyes. They don't disgust him, nothing about Xingchen does, not the way it did before, when Xingchen was a concept instead of a person.
The moment feels like nothing special, so reminiscent of many before, but he wishes he could stop time. Soon it will be nothing but memory and he has lived long enough, doing nothing but reminisce, to feel that memories are worthless, other than to draw pain out.
Life really is cruel at its core. Is it any wonder that he is even more cruel? Isn't it the only natural response to it all?]
Make sure only I get to see you like this, daozhang. Since I care for you best, I have more of a right, don't I? Don't forget that.
[The teasing lilt to his voice may make the words harmless enough, even as his heart hammers in his chest. Doesn't he have a right, if he wants most of all?]
Even if that's true, you shouldn't be so careless with your words. I would not want you to anger a spirit, no matter how clever they may or may not be.
[He knows his friend has a sharp tongue; he's heard the conversations held with A-Qing countless times. But just because his friend tends to be irreverent doesn't mean he shouldn't still be careful when it matters. Maybe one day it will make sense to him, hopefully before it gets him in trouble.
For now, he just lets his friend work and breathes out a little laugh at his request. Who else does Xingchen have that he trusts enough to be so vulnerable with? Yes, he is kind to others and tends to be in their good graces, but he wouldn't dare be so...so naked like this with them. They're not his friend.
He lifts a hand, tentatively seeking out his friend's face. Fingers bump against his face, then he cups his cheek, letting his thumb rub over the skin for a moment. He moves upward after that, giving him a few pats on the top of his head.]
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Not that it matters right now. What matters other than the movement beneath him? Still, his instincts are well-honed and he has been wrestling on the streets as far back as he can remember, so it is a conscious decision when he does let Xingchen switch their position. Looking up, it is his turn to arch his body, at the same time as he lifts his eyebrows.]
Seems like you are up as well, daozhang~ [Yes, together with that teasing lilt, his speech has returned.]
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With their legs tangled and the rest of their bodies flush, Xingchen can feel practically every movement below him, intentional and otherwise. So. Needless to say, when his friend copies him from just moments before, it leaves little to the imagination. And Xingchen was right. He's earned those questionable words.
He buries his head against his friend's shoulder and breathes out heavily, trying to ignore what's going on. He also tries to pull his hands free so he can at least make some semblance of getting ready for the day.]
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There is no need to think much beyond this moment, beyond what he's looking for.
He wants. Wants him, so badly.]
should we warn for horny? we should probably warn for horny.
Lips, and teeth. And they're joined by the writhing body underneath his own and before Xingchen can even properly process anything that's happening, a moan escapes his throat. The sound is loud in his ears and Xingchen freezes, mortified. Did anyone hear? Does anyone see their undeniably compromising position?
This really is not the time or place.
Feeling his face, his neck, probably his entire body flush from embarrassment - and an ignored desire - Xingchen tries to pull away from the mouth at his neck, even as he whispers.]
Stop.
BE WARNED FOR HORNY!!!
But there's something about his gentle voice that cuts through like nothing else could. How long as he dreamed of hearing that voice again? In that tone, directed to him, it's unlikely to happen that much more often.
That reality is sobering enough that he lowers his head, a shuddering breath against Xingchen's shoulder, his head to the side. He holds still under him, but it is an effort.]
Daozhang. You started it!
[Or so he claims.]
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What happens next could be explained by any number of excuses. Xingchen is still tired and having been woken up in such a sudden way leaves his mind pretty addled. Or maybe it's an effect of his friend's body pressed against his own and everything unsaid, but still clear hovering around them. Perhaps he's just crazy and his mountain upbringing is rearing its strange head.
Whatever the case, Xingchen gently nuzzles his friend's cheek, until the tip of his nose bumps against a jawline. And, without thinking, Xingchen presses his lips so softly to that ridge, just for a moment, and responds to the allegations in a quiet voice.]
Mm. My apologies.
[...They really can't lie here like this forever, though. So, once more, he tries to tug his wrists free, albeit more gently this time, not as urgently.
His heartbeat, however, hammers in his chest. He's sure his friend is able to feel it, too.]
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Of course, lower parts of his body are having reactions he understands a lot better, but for now he refrains from arching, turning hia head instead. So close to Xingchen's face, he suddenly leans in and quickly licks his lips, letting out a quiet laugh immediately after.]
Ah, daozhang! You taste so sweet, you have cured me.
[And then he quite suddenly lets go of Xingchen's wrists to brace his arms against the ground instead, to thrust himself up and try to turn them around. Whether that succeeds or not, he is immediately back to pressing against him, this time in order to whisper by his ear.]
I will owe you for that, daozhang.
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Hands, which now automatically find his friend's waist, neither holding him in place or pushing him away as he does his best to eliminate all space between their bodies. Even if he does manage to get his friend to behave - doubtful - Xingchen knows he's going to have to...take care of things anyway. There are certainly worse ways to wake up, but there are better ways, too. He's just not mentally equipped to deal with his body's reactions right now and, what's worse, he is sure his friend can feel what this early moment "spar" has done to him.
Letting his head fall heavily back against the ground, Xingchen lets out a huff of air and whispers his reply in turn, though he goes for a much different effect.]
You can owe me later. When we're not here.
[Here, of course, being out among the other caravan members and the ghost army and in real, actual danger.
He tightens his hands on his friend's waist and tries to push him off.]
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Not sweets, not revenge, nothing has ever made him feel this urgency. How much he wants to be with Xingchen, to feel him, to have him in all ways. To be his. Maybe the urgency is fuelled by his knowledge of how limited their time is. It is what makes his chest feel tight and what made his eyes burn, not that he realises that. Not that anyone is likely to realise, because Xingchen is blind and can't see red-rimmed eyes from tears that fell without awareness and no one else is close enough.
All Xue Yang knows and understands right now is his body's need and his hot breath against freshly marked skin is testimony of that.
Knowing that he has to stand up in order to win this, he braces his hands against the ground and lifts himself, eyes on Xingchen beneath him. He moves his hips, just once, grinding down, then he forces himself off of him, getting to his feet and looking down. Beautiful sight.]
Are you hot, daozhang? You look flushed.
[The gentle mocking tone is back, but his voice still hoarse enough to badly mask his desire.]
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And Xingchen knows he's a source of nearly constant entertainment for whatever reason.
He's right to prepare himself, though it hardly makes a difference. That roll of his friend's hips, so deliberate and unashamed, makes Xingchen bite down on his lip to hold back the noises desperate to get out. In moments like this, there really is no room to hide. It's obvious they're attracted to each other; surely have been for some time now. And yet they keep dancing around each other, or maybe it's just Xingchen who keeps himself lightfooted out of...what? Insecurity? Fear?
...Guilt?
When he's relieved of the weight of his friend, Xingchen lets out a breath, trying to compose himself as he lies there, undoubtedly looking disheveled. And flushed, yes, as his friend helpfully points out. After a moment, he pushes himself up to sit and waves his hand in his friend's direction, neither accepting nor blowing off his question. It's obvious what's going on.
But now that he's up, he slowly gets himself moving. If it's still as early as his friend had said, then most of the others will still be asleep or at least not paying attention to them. So he bows his head and unties the cloth from around his empty eyes so he can comb his fingers through his hair and tame it down after a night's rest. As uncomfortable as it can be, he keeps the cloth on as he sleeps so as not to frighten or disgust anyone else who may see his ruined face. But if there's anyone he can trust not to turn away in fear or discomfort, it's his friend. He knows what Xingchen has done, after all.]
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So he sprints a few step and reaches out to grab Xingchen's wrist, his thumb drawing a gentle circle there, while he looks at Xingchen's face without hesitation. Always beautiful to him.]
Let me help with your hair, daozhang. You are too clumsy to do it yourself.
[If he teases, does it hode how he is just eager to touch? Maybe not, but who cares? They both know.]
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He feels that gaze on him, though, and now that he's practically naked without the cloth, he can't help but be self-conscious, even if his friend won't say anything. So he bows his head further, feeling his hair fall and veil the sides of his head. But as he waits, he holds the cloth in one hand, rubbing the fabric gently between his thumb and fingers. He must be patient.]
Did you not sleep well?
[His own voice is quiet after these moments of disuse, but Xingchen both knows they need to move on from their pre-dawn weaknesses and is concerned why his friend was up so early. It could be nothing. He hopes it was just a fluke, but he wants to know.]
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[The initial sound isn't much of an answer, his focus instead on Xingchen's hair, his fingers deftly moving through the silken strands, bringing them into order. The scent that is uniquely Xingchen's, warm and alive and - to him - so sweet makes it hard to think of anything else. Just the moment and touching him.]
Just did not sleep much.
[It is said dismissively, as he can hardly explain to Xingchen that he kept waking when the body near him was warm and alive and not a corpse. That he had to watch him breathe, watch his face, dread the loss and savour every moment, until finally the urge to mark him became too strong.]
Your beauty kept me awake, daozhang. You should be ashamed. What can I do but lose my mind over you? Are you sure you are a daozhang and not a fox spirit?
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But he is just him and while his friend is obviously avoiding the answer, he doesn't press, just as he's never asked for his name, though Xingchen is so curious as to what it could be. Either way, if his friend isn't comfortable sharing, then Xingchen has no right to pressure him. So he doesn't.
Instead, he gets more teasing, though Xingchen can't help but let his lips quirk up in a small smile. He can't possibly be as beautiful as his friend insists. He's just teasing him, as always, but Xingchen falls into his words and continues falling into his hands. Maybe it's all an exaggeration, but it feels so good to be wanted, even a little bit. Giving himself into the moment, he imagines moving closer, tilting his head just so, and kissing his friend. Thanking him, not just for the indulgent words, but for his help on so many days to look and feel human. Thanking him for his kindness and his loyal companionship.
It's absurd, he knows, which is why he doesn't act on it. He's just had to practically throw his friend off of him before they got themselves into trouble. If he gave in now, Xingchen can't say he'd be able to do it a second time.]
Do not trouble yourself. I'm not clever enough to be a fox.
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[The way he sees the world, there isn't much deference - not to spirits, not to anything. Not that he thinks his Xingchen a spirit. His daozhang. Not clever, too naive, too assured of being righteous, and most definitely too pretty.
It's a quiet moment then, just them between some gentle teasing, his fingers in Xingchen's hair, tying it, careful to make sure nothing is tangled. It would not take much to lean in and kiss him. His lips, his cheeks, his eyes. They don't disgust him, nothing about Xingchen does, not the way it did before, when Xingchen was a concept instead of a person.
The moment feels like nothing special, so reminiscent of many before, but he wishes he could stop time. Soon it will be nothing but memory and he has lived long enough, doing nothing but reminisce, to feel that memories are worthless, other than to draw pain out.
Life really is cruel at its core. Is it any wonder that he is even more cruel? Isn't it the only natural response to it all?]
Make sure only I get to see you like this, daozhang. Since I care for you best, I have more of a right, don't I? Don't forget that.
[The teasing lilt to his voice may make the words harmless enough, even as his heart hammers in his chest. Doesn't he have a right, if he wants most of all?]
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[He knows his friend has a sharp tongue; he's heard the conversations held with A-Qing countless times. But just because his friend tends to be irreverent doesn't mean he shouldn't still be careful when it matters. Maybe one day it will make sense to him, hopefully before it gets him in trouble.
For now, he just lets his friend work and breathes out a little laugh at his request. Who else does Xingchen have that he trusts enough to be so vulnerable with? Yes, he is kind to others and tends to be in their good graces, but he wouldn't dare be so...so naked like this with them. They're not his friend.
He lifts a hand, tentatively seeking out his friend's face. Fingers bump against his face, then he cups his cheek, letting his thumb rub over the skin for a moment. He moves upward after that, giving him a few pats on the top of his head.]
...Thank you.