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When Huaisang had commissioned a high table for Meng Yao’s room, Dà-gē had raised his eyebrows but hadn’t protested. “The decor was missing something,” Huaisang had said. And it had been true. Huaisang was very particular about the dimensions of this table, particularly that it be made at the right height to hold his favorite work of art.
That the work of art was Meng Yao, bent over, legs spread to reveal his hole dripping with Dà-gē’s come, Huaisang had neglected to mention.
It had been easy enough for Huaisang to figure out his brother and Meng Yao were fucking—between the times Huaisang caught Meng Yao returning to his room in the early morning still clad in yesterday’s clothes and his Dà-gē’s absolute lack of discretion when it came to raking his eyes over Meng Yao’s body in public, it was only by the blessing of nobody else in the Unclean Realm having any observational skills that they kept it a secret at all.
But Meng Yao insisted on pretending—rather rudely, in Huaisang’s opinion—not only that he wasn’t fucking Dà-gē but that he wasn’t fucking anyone at all. What else was Huaisang supposed to do but snoop in his room and, when Meng Yao returned, duck hastily underneath the bed? If Meng Yao chose that moment to disrobe, revealing the lovebites that peppered his pale shoulders and the glistening on his inner thigh, could Huaisang really be expected to look away? Could he be expected not to feel a stirring in his gut when, with a click of his tongue, Meng Yao grabbed a rag and held open his cheeks to dab at the come leaking from his open hole? At Dà-gē’s come.
That had been the start of it.
He’d been discovered, of course, and after the requisite indignant yelling from both parties, Huaisang grabbed both of Meng Yao’s hands and pulled him to sit with him on the bed. “It is Dà-gē, isn’t it?” he said joyously. “Don’t try to deny it now. I saw what I saw.” (Meng Yao tugged his light inner robe closer around him, flushed.) “You have to tell me everything.” His questions began with, How long have you been sleeping together? Who initiated it?, which Meng Yao answered, shyly, but with clear relief at being able to share his experience with his friend. The questions continued: Is he good in bed? What is he like? What does he do?
“Gōngzǐ,” Meng Yao hedged, “should you really be this interested in your brother’s sex life?”
Huaisang responded, “Who should be more interested in it than me!”
After all, sex was important for stress relief and, therefore, qì regulation. Dà-gē was often very stressed, and before Meng Yao, rarely had sex—Huaisang dutifully kept track of these things—as his tastes were quite particular. Huaisang worried for him. Frankly, he would be upset with Meng Yao if he weren’t sleeping with Dà-gē when Dà-gē so obviously needed it.
“That settles it. You’ll have to show me,” Huaisang said, and watched wariness settle over Meng Yao’s face.
“Show you…?” Meng Yao prompted.
“What you do with Dà-gē,” Huaisang finished.
“Wh–” Meng Yao gawked. “You want me to– Now?”
Huaisang made a noise of exasperation. “Not now. Next time. After. Before you’ve cleaned up.”
Comprehension dawned on Meng Yao, and his flush deepened. “You want to see… that.”
“How else can I be sure you’re taking care of Dà-gē?”
He meant it half in jest, just because he liked to see Meng Yao blush and squirm, and after some more teasing, he hugged Meng Yao goodnight and went back to his room to jerk off to the memory of Meng Yao spreading his ass for Huaisang to see. He was happy his brother and Meng Yao were together, and the mental image was more than enough. He didn’t think Meng Yao would actually follow through on his suggestion.
Yet sure enough, two nights later, Meng Yao was braced facing the wall of his room, his legs spread as Huaisang knelt between them, inspecting the nectar that dripped from between Meng Yao’s cheeks. Huaisang pulled one cheek to the side, and Meng Yao’s slightly gaping hole twitched under his scrutiny, pushing more come out. It was truly a prodigious amount of come Dà-gē had left behind. Huaisang realized that last time, Meng Yao must have cleaned up some before returning to his room, only for more to have leaked out on the way.
He watched as the thick, translucent liquid crept down Meng Yao’s hairless thigh. Entranced, Huaisang stopped it in its tracks with one finger—Meng Yao’s thigh tensed under his touch—and swept it clean, like stopping a droplet of tea creeping down the side of a cup. Once he touched, it was almost second nature to taste. And once he curled his tongue around the pad of his finger, around Dà-gē’s come, well.
He closed his eyes leaned his forehead against Meng Yao’s ass, his finger in his mouth, savoring the bitter taste. His other hand still held Meng Yao open. Meng Yao trembled under his grip. “Gōngzǐ,” Meng Yao said, a little desperately.
Huaisang opened his eyes. Meng Yao was hard, his cock twitching a little between his legs. Just from being looked at like this. Just from being made to strip bare and present his used hole for Huaisang’s inspection. Just from Huaisang’s finger drawing a line up the sensitive skin of his thigh. Huaisang removed his finger from his mouth and spread Meng Yao’s other cheek. Meng Yao made a soft sound halfway between a squeak and a moan. More come dribbled out.
“You’ve been so good, Yao-Yao,” Huaisang said, and he leaned in to eat every last bit of Dà-gē’s come out of Meng Yao’s body.
*
So it became a routine for them: Meng Yao would get fucked by Dà-gē, and when they were finished, he would sneak back to his room, where Huaisang would be waiting. Huaisang would lick him, and he would finger him, and he would ask him, in detail, what he and Dà-gē did that night. Meng Yao would describe it, acting bashful and reluctant at first in contrast to the pornography that dropped from his lips. (Sometimes, Huaisang would wait for Meng Yao, only to find Dà-gē hadn’t come inside or even fucked Meng Yao at all. This was always a disappointment to Huaisang, but he and Meng Yao would suck each other off and then fall asleep curled together, one petting the other’s hair.)
“He’s beginning to think I’m a slut,” Meng Yao lamented, “asking him to come inside me.”
Huaisang lifted Meng Yao from where he was riding Huaisang’s tongue to say, with come smeared over his cheeks, “Your sacrifice is much appreciated, Meng-gōngzǐ,” before digging in again.
This continued for many weeks, and in that time, Huaisang commissioned the table to better bend Meng Yao over and expose his dripping hole.
He was bent over the table now, with Huaisang kneeling between his legs as usual, licking up the stripes that had dribbled down Meng Yao’s thighs. Dà-gē had spilled inside Meng Yao twice tonight. Huaisang rested his tongue against Meng Yao’s balls and caught the seed as it overflowed. There was so much of it. He slid two fingers into Meng Yao, who made a weak noise between pants, and spread them wide. A large globule slid onto Huaisang’s tongue. He was so wet inside. Huaisang had jerked off with a palmful of Dà-gē’s come before, but he wanted to be in that wetness. He wanted it to surround him.
“Meng Yao,” he said, rising with a kiss to Meng Yao’s asscheek on the way. “I’m putting it in.”
“Huaisang, wait–” Meng Yao’s protest broke off into a moan as Huaisang sank into that slick heat.
It was wetter and filthier than Meng Yao’s mouth. It wasn’t tight; how could it be? Huaisang bent over Meng Yao, mouthing at his shoulderblades, running his fingers up and down his quivering body. “Is this okay?” he asked belatedly. He knew by now that Meng Yao liked to protest only almost as much as he liked Huaisang using him however he wanted, but he had been fucked by Dà-gē’s considerable thickness twice tonight already.
“Ahh, Huaisang…” Meng Yao’s head was thrown back, mouth slack. “Just fuck me gently.”
Huaisang gathered Meng Yao’s hair over one shoulder, tenderly combing away the strands already stuck to his face with sweat, and kissed the salty skin of his neck. “No promises,” he said, just to be a brat.
But he did fuck him slowly and carefully, at least until Meng Yao began to push back against him, insistent. Huaisang kept his eyes on where his cock entered Meng Yao. It was intoxicating, how every thrust was into a channel Dà-gē had carved out for him. How on every pull out, Dà-gē’s come stuck to his cock. How the come caused wet, slapping noises each time Huaisang’s balls collided with Meng Yao’s sopping taint.
Huaisang reached between Meng Yao’s legs to gather some of the mess there, then took Meng Yao in hand, giving him a slick fist to fuck into. Meng Yao rocked himself back and forth with a sob and a, “Huaisang, Huaisang, Huaisang…”
When Huaisang spilled inside of Meng Yao, all he could think about was his seed mingling with Dà-gē’s. He gave himself a moment to catch his breath. Then he went back to his knees and lapped up the mess on Meng Yao’s balls and around his rim. He continued jerking Meng Yao at the same time until Meng Yao came into his fist with a cry.
Meng Yao slid off the table and collapsed into Huaisang’s lap after that. Huaisang held him to keep him from falling over. He was boneless, exhausted, beautiful. When he put his arms lazily around Huaisang’s neck, Huaisang could feel his lashes brush his cheek. He rubbed his clean hand over the small of Meng Yao’s back. “Feel good?”
“Tired,” said Meng Yao. He kissed Huaisang and licked the come from his lips. “And sore. You’re so rough on your Meng Yao.”
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me, A-Yao,” and he took Meng Yao’s hand to kiss it. At this, Meng Yao laughed, and Huaisang thought how nice it would be for Meng Yao to be his forever.
Huaisang helped him up, and the two stumbled to the bed together. Meng Yao curled up on his side while Huaisang fetched a pitcher and cloth to clean the come and sweat off both their bodies. When he was finished, he tucked himself behind Meng Yao, who tugged the blanket over the both of them. Huaisang nuzzled his face into the nape of Meng Yao’s neck and murmured a “goodnight.”
Meng Yao just said, “Go to sleep, xiǎo gōngzǐ,” and pressed himself back to fit the shape of Huaisang.
Huaisang didn’t go to sleep. He did try, his cock half-hard against Meng Yao’s warm bottom. It was usual for them to fall asleep with one or both of them in an aroused state from the way they wrapped themselves around each other like the strands of a braid. But what Huaisang’s cock quickly realized this time was that Meng Yao was still dripping.
He slid his hand from Meng Yao’s waist to press two fingers to his hole. Meng Yao made a sound of sleepy protest. Huaisang’s fingertips slid in and tugged at the rim a little. He was still so wet. He was still so pliable.
Meng Yao whined when Huaisang pushed his cock inside. “Huaisang…”
Huaisang kissed Meng Yao at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Can I sleep with my cock inside you? Please?”
“You’ve clearly already decided to,” Meng Yao huffed.
“Is that a yes?” Huaisang would pull out if Meng Yao asked him to, but he knew Meng Yao wouldn’t, as he never denied him anything.
Sure enough, Meng Yao said, long-suffering, “Gōngzǐ can do whatever he wants.”
Huaisang wrapped his arms around Meng Yao’s torso and tugged him close for a snuggle. “You’re the best, Meng Yao.”
*
When Huaisang woke, he had a hard-on. It took only a second of remembering why his dick was so warm for it to grow from half-mast to full inside of Meng Yao.
Meng Yao was still peacefully asleep, the lovebites left by Dà-gē bruising beautifully on his pale shoulders. Huaisang wanted to kiss the delicate bones of his neck, but he didn’t want to wake Meng Yao. Not yet. Not so easily.
Instead, he rocked very gently deeper into Meng Yao’s body, keeping the arm that had been slung across Meng Yao’s waist all night in place as an anchor. Slowly, slowly, he rocked back out. He fucked Meng Yao at this languorous pace, careful not to speed up because while Meng Yao was still slick inside, the come at his rim was dry. Huaisang pulled out all the way to let some of his and Dà-gē’s mixed come slip out before pushing back into Meng Yao’s waiting hole.
Eventually, he heard Meng Yao’s breath hitch.
“Good morning,” said Huaisang, finally indulging in a peck to Meng Yao’s shoulder. He splayed his fingers across Meng Yao’s stomach and thrust just slightly harder.
“Gōngzǐ…” Meng Yao gasped, voice thick with sleep.
“You’ve been so good for gōngzǐ, Meng Yao. So good for both gōngzǐ and Dà-gē.” He picked up the pace of his fucking. “Are you very sore? Are you going to have to disguise a limp as you fulfill your duties today? Will Dà-gē have to punish you for slacking?” It was an empty threat. Dà-gē was too much of a softie to even play at punishment; Huaisang knew because Meng Yao had told him how he’d beg to be punished and receive kisses to his thighs instead.
Meng Yao only moaned in response. It might have been pained, except that Meng Yao shifted his leg to allow Huaisang to press deeper inside.
“You’ll just have to tell him it’s because he fucked you so hard ah,” Huaisang continued. “Dà-gē’s dick is so big, it feels like poor Meng Yao has been fucked four times.”
“Gōngzǐ…” Meng Yao moaned again, voice broken with what might have been sleep or arousal or, Huaisang remembered, because Dà-gē fucked Meng Yao’s throat last night, too.
Meng Yao, trembling under Huaisang’s grip, was fucking himself back against Huaisang now, who had switched to longer strokes, pulling out nearly all the way each time to coat Meng Yao’s rim in last night’s come. He was getting close, with Meng Yao’s body squeezing tight around him, even after having been speared on his cock all night.
“Ahh, Meng Yao.” Huaisang pressed his teeth into one particularly handsome bruise and enjoyed the breathy noises Meng Yao made in response. “I’m going to come inside you, okay? Get you nice and wet again. Would you like that? Don’t worry, I’ll suck your pretty dick after.” The hand on Meng Yao’s stomach drifted down to just barely graze against Meng Yao’s dick, rock hard and leaking as expected. Meng Yao keened high in his throat. “Do you want me to come in you?”
“Yes,” Meng Yao breathed. “Yes, gōngzǐ, come inside me again. Fill me up.” Meng Yao was fully awake now, and the question had broken a dam. He sobbed, “You feel so good. Gōngzǐ’s cock feels so good inside your slutty servant. Ah, I’m so sore. Ahh, I’ll have to beg zōngzhǔ to go easy on me next time. He doesn’t know that every time he fucks me, Meng Yao then goes to be wrecked on his dìdi’s cock—”
Huaisang dug his nails into Meng Yao’s hips and came inside him with a groan.
As he caught his breath, Meng Yao chuckled, dropping the desperate slut act. He pulled himself off Huaisang’s dick and rearranged himself to loop an arm around Huaisang’s shoulders. “So nasty,” he laughed, and he kissed Huaisang’s forehead. “What would zōngzhǔ say if I told him his dìdi comes at the thought of him?”
“Don’t,” said Huaisang, snuggling into Meng Yao’s chest. “You’re going to get me hard again.”
“Speaking of which, I think you promised me something.”
Huaisang propped himself up to study Meng Yao’s face: his flushed cheeks, the divots of his dimples, his still-braided hair in disarray. Huaisang wasn’t attracted to Meng Yao like he was to his brother, but Meng Yao was beautiful like a painting, and Huaisang so fortunate to have him in his bed. He wanted to immortalize him in ink so he could stare at him all day. He wanted to recreate the perfect camber of his lashes, the delicate line of his secretive smile.
Instead, he slid down the bed to take Meng Yao’s cock in his mouth.
Meng Yao moaned loudly and buried his fingers in Huaisang’s hair, and he moaned louder still as Huaisang slipped four fingers inside him. Huaisang didn’t tease Meng Yao any longer but bobbed his head and massaged Meng Yao’s sensitive spot relentlessly until Meng Yao’s grip tightened painfully in Huaisang’s hair and he came with a shout onto his tongue.
Huaisang swallowed but kept a bit on his tongue to lick into Meng Yao’s mouth. Meng Yao accepted the kiss eagerly, but it turned into a yawn partway. “We really did ride you hard, didn’t we,” Huaisang said, and he kissed Meng Yao’s cheek.
Meng Yao opened his legs obediently when Huaisang fetched a damp cloth to wipe him clean. Each time Huaisang thought he was done, Meng Yao’s hole would dribble a little more. Well, Meng Yao would have to deal with that himself. Huaisang moved away to let Meng Yao close his legs, and the latter stretched out on the bed like a cat in the sun before settling, eyes closed, in a slight curl on his side. “Do I have to get up?” he mumbled.
Huaisang pulled the covers over Meng Yao and kissed his temple. The muffled footsteps and light clatter of the Unclean Realm beginning to wake floated into the room, but it was only the earliest rising servants and disciples preparing for the day. It would be some hours before anyone but Dà-gē or himself expected Meng Yao, and after last night, Dà-gē would let him sleep. “You have time,” Huaisang said. “I’ll come wake you and redo your hair before you have to be anywhere.”
Meng Yao only nodded, falling back asleep already.
Huaisang undid his own braids and untangled his hair with Meng Yao’s brush. He dressed, but not too neatly. If anybody caught him in the halls, they would assume he had gotten out of bed to sneak a mántóu from the kitchens before the stricter staff arrived to forbid him at his brother’s behest. That didn’t sound like a bad idea. He should grab one for Meng Yao as well, although it might be dry by the time Meng Yao awoke.
Upon checking that the coast was clear, Huaisang padded down the empty halls of the Unclean Realm, daydreaming and scheming about the snacks he could pilfer to share with his friend.