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Jing Yuan was too round for this.
Not being used to the extra weight around her midsection after hundreds of years of staying roughly the same size was taking a toll on her back and legs. She thought all the muscles and strength built through a steady training routine would have been enough to bear the constant heaviness, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The larger her belly grew, the more she just wanted to sit in her office chair and never move again.
Instead, she’s trudging up these steps that seem never ending, making a trek she’s made four times before look like a completely different beast. Sweat drips between her chest and her feet feel more swollen than usual, but she continues on only because of the comforting presence of Yanqing at her side and the hand he’s placed at the curve of her back.
He’d normally be holding her hand, but they are both preoccupied – one gripping onto the railing and the other cupped underneath her belly. Jing Yuan would prefer it that way too, to hold the hand she’s held for four years, but with Yanqing hovering a step behind in case she somehow slips, they are forced to forgo it at her slower pace.
When Jing Yuan takes that final step at the top, she lets out a weary sigh in relief, and Yanqing laughs softly at her. Her hand, now free from the rail, goes to swat at his arm in retaliation, but he manages to catch it, immediately threading their fingers together as they should’ve been this whole time. Everything in her relaxes at the familiar touch, his rough calluses against her own, and she brings him closer to gently press her lips at his forehead.
“Are you ready?” she asks like she has every year since their first trip here.
Yanqing answers in kind, repeating his own past words, “Ready as always, shifu. ”
Jing Yuan smiles down at him, once again taking notice of how much taller he’s grown in their time together. She remembers how he used to barely reach her waist, making grabby hands at her so she could carry him, and here he is proudly coming up to her chin. The day he passes her up will certainly be the day where her heart flutters out of her chest, but for now, she will cherish the height advantage for as long as she can.
Pulling him forward, they walk closer to the temple, as beautiful and bright red as it has always stood. It’s a smaller temple, tucked into one of the further corners of the Luofu, but it was as magnificent as any of the large temples around the Central Starskiff. Yanqing had told her as such when he had first suggested they officiate their marriage in a more ceremonial manner, and the way he had shyly twisted the tip of his foot on the ground was the dead giveaway he wanted something just between the two of them.
Every year, she’s grateful for the silence, how it sits over them delicately as they kneel close, her hanfu brushing against his elbow. The heel of his foot continuously bumps into her ankle, his way of linking themselves together without separating his palms. As she prays for another year of luck, health, and stability, she wonders – not for the first time – what exactly Yanqing prays for. Jing Yuan has asked before, only to be met with a sly grin and a boy who darts out of the room as soon as she starts to give chase.
Chancing a look, she peeks over at him and blinks in shock because he’s already staring at her, the giddiness that he gets around this time of year clear in his face. Yanqing’s hands are apart and wiggling as if they are itching to touch her, but he wouldn’t dare to disturb her, patiently waiting for her to finish up. It reminds Jing Yuan of a dog that hasn’t realized it isn’t a puppy anymore, all long legs that don’t fit where they used to but will still try to overzealously slot them into place.
Despite his older age, he hasn’t stopped being her cute student that she took under her wing so many years ago, even if the baby fat in his cheeks has begun to leave. His youth is present in the soft glow that seems to emanate from his eyes at moments like this, and Jing Yuan wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t let him indulge.
Her hands are apart for a split second before Yanqing is upon her, grasping onto her wrists while he smothers her in kisses. The eagerness has her laughing into his mouth, and he kisses her through it, planting his lips everywhere he can.
“Happy anniversary,” Yanqing says when the last of her laugh peters out, smiling into the hair by her ear and pressing his lips there in a way that’s more reverent than the exuberance he had before. The sensation has her shivering, and murmuring the words back to him is all she can do when her focus is now lasered in on how he’s starting to mouth at her neck.
“Yanqing…” she tries, her wrists still caught in his hands and unable to do much but pat awkwardly at his shoulders. “Not here. We still have to walk back down.”
There’s a sudden rush of cold air Jing Yuan recognizes as the appearance of Yanqing’s swords, and then he’s pulling away from her to hop onto the one at his side. She opens her mouth to speak, but Yanqing scoops her into his arms in a surprising show of strength and flies them down the stairs with a speed and ease that leaves her speechless.
Wind whirls around them so fast, Jing Yuan can barely blink, settling for closing her eyes against the harsh gusts Yanqing is creating. She feels them slowing down, her hair no longer whipping both of them in the face, and as she’s lowered to her feet, she takes in where Yanqing has decided to relocate them to. A thick surrounding of trees, the forest behind the temple where no one would ever think to hike through for the lack of, well, anything but trees.
“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” Jing Yuan asks, a little flustered at how effortlessly he carried her.
Yanqing only smiles, coming closer, and it does nothing to steady the fast beating of her heart. “Tradition!”
Jing Yuan knows where this is going, so she lets Yanqing walk her backwards until a tree stands tall behind her.
“Five years is a milestone, especially with a little extra someone on the way,” he says, laying his hands on the sides of her belly. “I want to make it special, or at the very least, different,”
Jing Yuan raises up her eyebrows, asking, “Oh? And what, my dear, would that entail?”
The hands at her belly are already wandering lower, bunching up her hanfu and untying her undergarments at the same time. Aeons, help her. She tries to rub her legs together as the cloth falls to the ground, but the grip on her hip is tight, not letting her.
“You should hold on, shifu, ” Yanqing whispers coyly before he flips her over, careful enough to not bump her stomach but rough enough to send a delicious lick of pleasure through her. Automatically, her hands grab onto the tree in front of her to balance herself while her legs are pushed apart, exposing herself out in the open. A chilling freeze runs up her thighs, and she has a mere second to realize Yanqing never dismissed his swords before one of them touches her, causing her to jolt away from it.
If she could. Yanqing’s grip at her hip hasn’t let up. “You liked it so much the first time,” he says casually, maneuvering the cold hilt of the sword so it nudges her lips. “I thought I could recreate that moment for you.”
It starts to rub circles around her, and the high whine that escapes her is pathetic. Jing Yuan breathes out, “Don’t tease me here.”
In an instant, the sword is replaced by his warm cock, the head tapping at her entrance as the hilt moves to her clit. The contrast is startling, and she feels herself beginning to drip down her thighs.
Yanqing answers sweetly, “Of course,” and pushes inside.
Jing Yuan can’t remember when his cheekiness turned into something bold, struggles to do much of anything when Yanqing pounds into her like that, like he won’t ever get another chance to. It’s strange to think so, when they’ve been married for as long as they have, and Jing Yuan can’t ever say no to him. But each time they are like this, Yanqing fucks her with abandon, and her stomach may do flips, but she would never tell him to stop.
Each thrust drives her clit onto the hilt with an aim that doesn’t miss, the sword unconsciously acting according to Yanqing’s thoughts. She knows he’d prefer to do it himself, but he has one hand staking claim at her hip and the other pressing softly under her belly for support. It’s his thoughtfulness and a particularly sharp thrust that has her moaning, muffled against the bark by her mouth.
The tree has grooves big enough to dig her fingers into, and later, she will be aching and raw from its roughness, but it will be worth it when Yanqing is kissing it better. His lips are on her back now, kissing between her shoulders, his sign that he’s close. His cock feels like it’s burning marks into her, too hot compared to the melting chill outside.
Her thoughts fray as he hits that spot inside over and over again. She’s never come this fast, and maybe she’ll blame it on the pregnancy making her overly sensitive or the fact they are out in public right where they come to get married every year. The purity of it marred by how filthy Yanqing is fucking her, cool water and their cum painting her inner thighs. Crying out, her head bangs on the tree, and Yanqing rushes to thread his finger through her hair to yank it back.
It prevents her from scraping her face more than she already has, but also gives him an anchor as he plunges in a couple more times to chase his high. His panting fills the air as his cum squelches out of her, and she watches it hit the forest floor, damp from the thawing sword.
Jing Yuan’s legs are shaking, and Yanqing must feel them because he wastes no time in pulling out despite how much she likes him staying inside of her after. His arms wrap around her to turn her and lower her body to the ground, making sure she is sitting on what’s left of her ruined hanfu.
“How was that?” Yanqing asks, and she can practically see his tail wagging, always so eager to please.
Her hand cups his cheek, and he leans into it, briefly closing his eyes. “You have to clean me up before we go.”
When that same deceivingly innocuous smile appears on his face, a part of her regrets speaking while the rest of her throbs in anticipation.
“I can do that for you.”