Work Text:
the ping of an incoming email startles jiang cheng to attention.
his leg twitches, and he expects to bump his knee into his work desk, but is met with no hard surface. one of the perks of using lan zhan’s home office is that his work desk is the perfect height, unlike jiang cheng’s much too short work desk, giving his long legs ample breathing room. still, jiang cheng grimaces in anticipation of the familiar pain, and then at the thought of answering his emails.
it’s an email from his colleague, a senior, telling him to do something that is not in jiang cheng’s job description, but will have to complete regardless.
it’s fine, because he understands this is a natural order of any workplace, that the newest team member has to do as they are told, whenever they are told to do so.
another part of him questions whether they are doing so to mess with jiang cheng, to take the ceo’s son down a peg.
it’s fine, because he is determined to earn their respect through his demonstrated hard work.
it’s fine, because one day jiang cheng will have worked his way to the very top on his own merit, leaving his father no choice but to pass on the company to him.
his email pings a second time.
another request from another colleague. this one is labelled urgent, allegedly due tomorrow morning at 7 am.
jiang cheng searches lan zhan’s dual monitors for the time. one of the downsides of using lan zhan’s home office is that jiang cheng is not accustomed to the large setup. it takes him two full minutes before he locates a 9:48 pm in the top right corner of the second screen.
jiang cheng doesn’t hold back his sigh.
he had planned to wrap up his report, call it a day, and spend time with wei ying since lan zhan is away at a conference.
looks like that won’t be happening anymore.
it’s fine, because jiang cheng is a grown, working adult, and he knows how to handle his responsibilities.
begrudgingly, jiang cheng moves his mouse towards the save file button on his document.
all of the sudden, arms wrap themselves around jiang cheng’s shoulders from behind, propelling him forward due to the surprise. he hears the click of his mouse before a booming voice whines,
“chengcheng! are you done yet?”
“what the f— wei ying, get off of me!” jiang cheng squawks, trying to pry wei ying’s lanky arms off his shoulders.
they don’t budge.
instead, wei ying presses his face into jiang cheng’s.
“chengcheng, i missed you!” wei ying whines again, straight in jiang cheng’s ear.
jiang cheng continues to try to untangle himself from wei ying, if only to make sure that he actually clicked save instead of accidentally closing the tab. but wei ying has now managed to snake his way into jiang cheng’s lap, effectively obscuring his view of the desktop.
“wei ying, get off, i’m working.” jiang cheng grunts, low levels of annoyance clear in his voice.
wei ying remains undeterred.
he wiggles in jiang cheng’s lap.
“but chengcheng,” pouting, wei ying pulls back from jiang cheng’s face, “i’m so lonely.”
his email pings.
jiang cheng ceases struggling in favour of sighing and digging the palms of his hands into his eye sockets to relieve the pressure that’s been building since he returned from the office and sat down to work from home three hours ago.
“i know you’re bored because lan zhan isn’t here, but i have work that needs to be done.” jiang cheng’s voice comes out resigned, like he’s trying not to dwell on how overworked he is.
his email pings again.
wei ying stops wiggling and pulls jiang cheng’s head into his chest, petting his hair with a gentleness he didn’t have two moments ago.
“oh, chengcheng, but you’re so tired,” wei ying murmurs, and jiang cheng can’t help the brief moment of weakness as he nuzzles into the softness of his —well, lan zhan’s— shirt.
his email pings once again.
“shit needs to be done tonight…” his voice is muffled against wei ying’s chest, but they both know he has an angry pout on his face. it makes wei ying laugh softly, which prompts, “i’m working unpaid overtime, and you’re laughing?”
wei ying pinches his check, to which jiang cheng yelps ow!
“don’t get prickly with me, chengcheng. i’m a victim of corporate hell, too.” jiang cheng pulls his head back to raise a quizzical eyebrow at wei ying, and wei ying smiles with all his teeth. “if you’re busy working, who’s going to get me off?”
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” jiang cheng groans, with equal parts malice and incredulity.
“nope!” wei ying’s ponytail swishes behind him as he tilts his head to the side, blinking at jiang cheng with the most innocent expression he can muster. “say, chengcheng,” then, wei ying lowers his head so that he can whisper into jiang cheng’s ear, “why don’t you fuck me while you work?”
jiang cheng tries to hold back a shiver from the sensation of wei ying’s cold breath against his sensitive ear, but he is sure goosebumps litter his skin. without waiting for an answer, wei ying begins pressing open-mouthed kisses to jiang cheng’s neck, sucking and biting as he works his way down to jiang cheng’s clavicle.
jiang cheng hates to admit it, but he is incredibly easy to turn on.
his eyes flutter shut as wei ying’s soft and warm tongue slides across his skin, soothing after every harsh bite. jiang cheng stifles his groans with the back of his hand, in an attempt to maintain some semblance of control. to this, wei ying pulls back and gives him a disapproving look.
“now, now, chengcheng. you know i don’t like when you smother yourself.”
jiang cheng puts on his usual frown, “i should be working, y’know.”
wei ying is the one to sigh this time, quite dramatically.
“fine.” wei ying gnaws on his bottom lip with a finger pressed against his chin and begins drifting deep into thought.
as this happens, jiang cheng leans over wei ying’s shoulder to take a peek at his inbox, glaring at the four new emails. all from the same colleague with the urgent request. jiang cheng opens the latest one and pens a reply reassuring his colleague that this task is his priority and that it will be completed before tomorrow morning.
just as jiang cheng is about to hit send, wei ying grabs hold of his shoulders and pushes him back against lan zhan’s rather comfortable office chair.
“hey—”
“chengcheng! i know what we can do!” wei ying grins at jiang cheng like he won the jackpot.
his smile is too bright for jiang cheng, who turns to look away and spare his eyeballs the blindness.
“and what’s that?” he tries to sound disinterested, but a part of him is curious to know what horny idea wei ying has come up with. maybe wei ying will try to give jiang cheng a blowjob while he works, or pull up a chair next to jiang cheng and play with himself, or—
“i want to warm your cock,” wei ying says proudly.
jiang chengs blinks back at him. he glances between wei ying’s pleased smile and the all-caps subject heading of an email reading, URGENT! REPORT! TONIGHT!
and then after a beat, jiang cheng shrugs.
“sure. what the hell.”
wei ying jumps off jiang cheng with a cheer.
“i need to send an email first, so undress and prep yourself until then.” jiang cheng loosely waves his hand in the air before returning to his drafted email, and re-reading it for clarity while removing any petty attitude that might have slipped through.
after only a few moments and right after hitting send, jiang cheng has a lapful of a very naked wei ying. jiang cheng raises an eyebrow at him.
“i told you to go prep, didn’t i?” jiang cheng can’t afford to get his fingers all wet and slippery, not with an impending deadline. surely wei ying can undertake that much, lazy fucker that he is.
wei ying laughs in his face and then stands up with a flair for the theatrics.
with his ass facing jiang cheng, he bends over to reveal the jewelled base of a butt plug.
“oh.”
“oh!” wei ying mimicks, earning himself a backhanded smack on his ass. “ouch!” wei ying looks back at jiang cheng to find a nonchalant smirk playing on his lips.
“okay then,” jiang cheng wheels the chair slightly further away from the desk and gestures to his crotch, “get on with it.”
“you mean, get on it.” wei ying chimes, poking jiang cheng’s nose. jiang cheng gives him an unimpressed look, so wei ying lifts his hands up in surrender but still chuckles, “all work, and no play, huh?”
jiang cheng gestures to his crotch area again.
“alright, alright!”
wei ying makes quick work of jiang cheng’s dress pants, pulling them and his boxers off with the help of jiang cheng’s in-chair shimmying.
jiang cheng’s freed cock bobs against his abdomen in a way that amuses wei ying. he paws at it a couple of times, enjoying the way the girthy cock teeters back and forth. when wei ying looks up from his kneeling position, he finds jiang cheng glaring down at him.
“are you having fun?” a rhetorical question. “because i’m not.”
“so prickly.” wei ying admonishes before planting a wet kiss to the head of jiang cheng’s cock that triggers a surprised groan.
wei ying climbs into jiang cheng’s lap again. thanks to the size of lan zhan’s office chair, he manages to plant his knees on both sides of jiang cheng, giving them plenty of room to get comfortable.
wei ying stands on his knees, looking down at jiang cheng with a mischievous glint in his hooded eyes. jiang cheng cranes his neck to meet his gaze in a manner that elongates his neck so beautifully that wei ying can’t help but run a stray finger up it, resulting in a shuddered breath.
jiang cheng is so easy.
“chengcheng, i’m going to take it out now.” is all jiang cheng needs to hear.
he tears his gaze from wei ying’s hypnotic eyes, and instead strains his neck to catch sight of wei ying’s slender fingers gripping the base of the butt plug. he puts on a show for jiang cheng by spinning the butt plug inside of him and slowly pulling it out an inch, only to push it back in, prompting melodic moans with each pointed action.
after a few moments of wei ying’s teasing and another ping from jiang cheng’s email, jiang cheng caves. “for god’s sake, take it out and sit on me.”
wei ying sends him a wicked smile, pulls the plug out entirely, and sits squarely on jiang cheng’s cock.
the office is a cacophony of wei ying’s moans and jiang cheng’s groans.
jiang cheng runs his hands up and down wei ying’s thighs, desperately wanting to touch wei ying’s warm and puckering hole, yet still has enough of his frontal lobe activated to know not to. at least, not unless he wants to get lube all over lan zhan’s keyboard, but it has too good of a clicking sound to potentially be put in harm’s way.
as wei ying readjusts himself into a comfortable sitting position, his insides pulse around every inch of jiang cheng’s cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure up jiang cheng’s spine. every jostle elicits a groan from jiang cheng, who momentarily rests his head on wei ying’s shoulder, and every squeeze makes him throb.
wei ying’s warm, comforting, and inviting hole gives home to jiang cheng’s aching cock.
jiang cheng’s frontal lobe and hindbrain enter a battle about whether or not jiang cheng should return to work.
wei ying’s breathy moans in his ears make the decision all the more harder, until,
“chengcheng, didn’t you say you have work to do?” wei ying’s voice comes out airy, despite his pointed teasing.
instinctively, jiang cheng smacks his ass as a reprimand for poking fun at him, but the smack ripples to his cock, which already feels like it’s about to burst out of its seams.
“hey! don’t shoot the messenger!”
“yeah, yeah.”
jiang cheng pulls wei ying’s chest against his, and then hooks his head over wei ying’s shoulder. with his feet touching the ground, he manages to shimmy the wheeled chair close enough to the desk so that jiang cheng can reach the keyboard.
he begins working on the task his colleague pawned off to him.
the sound of jiang cheng’s fervent typing, wei ying’s quiet moans, and jiang cheng’s stifled groans occasionally fill the quiet air of the apartment. it is as if the world is drifting away from them.
the clock reads 10:38 pm when jiang cheng finally saves, exports, and emails off the document he has been working on.
he spares a glance at wei ying, who appears to be blinking in and out of consciousness on his shoulder, and offers him a gentle nudge.
“wei ying, get up, i’m done.”
“hmm?” wei ying mumbles against jiang cheng’s shoulder, which is when jiang cheng realizes something wet has seeped through his shirt and sticks to his shoulder. drool, wei ying’s drool.
“get up, wei ying.” jiang cheng runs his hands up and down wei ying’s back, relishing in the way he shudders under his touch, and in the way those shudders travel down to his own cock.
“you’re done work?” wei ying manages to ask between a yawn, pulling back to look at jiang cheng’s face.
jiang cheng drags his hands down to wei ying’s ass, and he kneads the two mounds together. “yeah.”
“does that mean you’ll fuck me now?” wei ying tilts his head to the side with equal amounts of interest and sleepiness.
jiang cheng gives him a wry smirk. even half asleep, wei ying can only think with his dick.
“yeah, yeah. get up then.”
wei ying eases off his cock with a slick pop.
as if pressure in a cooker had just been released, the two of them moan into each other.
wei ying quickly stumbles onto his feet, turns around, and bends over lan zhan’s desk with his ass out.
from his seat, jiang cheng regards him with uncertainty.
“shouldn’t we go to the bedroom?” he eyes all of lan zhan’s expensive equipment with concern. the dual monitors, the fancy keyboard, the ergonomic mouse, the nice glass top of his desk, the tiny desk trinkets, and much more.
“ughhh.” wei ying whines over his shoulder, “i don’t want to wait anymore, jiang cheng, please, fuck me. now!”
jiang cheng’s eyes widen for a second, and then it’s his turn to chuckle.
“who’s prickly now?”
wei ying sticks his tongue out at him.
the jester is easily knocked out of wei ying when jiang cheng lines up his cock to wei ying’s hole and pushes in without warning.
a long and loud moan drawls from wei ying’s lips.
bending over him, jiang cheng tilts wei ying’s head up to capture his moans in between open-mouthed kisses.
jiang cheng has half the mind to fuck wei ying nicely, softly, but his hindbrain that has been held back for so long finally takes over, and all control is lost. he pistons into wei ying’s hole with a single-minded focus, uncaring of how their movements are rocking the work desk back and forth, of how little trinkets are vibrating across the desk.
he lifts up one of wei ying’s legs, allowing for a deeper fit, and the entire room is filled with a variety of yes, please and don’t stop, chengcheng, don’t stop and you’re so good, you’re so good and fuck, fuck, fuck. neither of them can tell when one starts, and the other begins.
soon enough, jiang cheng feels himself reaching his peak, and with how wei ying shakes against him, he knows it’s only a matter of minutes for him, as well. jiang cheng pulls wei ying back into a standing position with him, and begins jerking wei ying’s neglected and red cock. after only a couple of strokes, wei ying is spouting all over lan zhan’s desk, his keyboard, and his monitors.
jiang cheng has half the mind to be horrified if wei ying wasn’t squeezing jiang cheng to completion. but he is emptying himself out in the warmth of wei ying’s hole, so senses of pleasure are overriding his mortification.
jiang cheng flops into the chair, and drags wei ying down with him.
the two of them catch their breath, puffs of air trading between their flushed chests.
“happy now?” jiang cheng grunts as he tucks wei ying’s overgrown bangs behind his ear.
“yes,” wei ying smiles at him, with a little too many teeth than jiang cheng would like, “but i’ll be happier if we have a round two in the shower.”
jiang cheng blinks back at him.
then his email pings.
wei ying's fingers tiptoe down jiang cheng's sternum, triggering goosebumps along the way.
his email pings again.
wei ying's hand ghosts his half hard cock, fingers flitting about in a teasing manner, making jiang cheng shudder in anticipation. wei ying whines something to the effect of come on, chengcheng.
his email pings once again.
“oh, fuck me!” jiang cheng cries out in frustration.
jiang cheng jams his thumb into the power button of the desktop, shutting it down, hoists wei ying up, and stalks over to the bathroom. wei ying clings to jiang cheng and giggles,
“gladly!”
wei ying's phone vibrates on the bedside table, causing jiang cheng to groan in annoyance. not because of the vibrating, which he is grateful for because the alternative is wei ying's phone blasting c-pop from the early 2000s, but because wei ying has to stretch over jiang cheng to grab it, effectively disturbing the perfect cuddling position they were in.
wei ying merely pats jiang cheng's head in consolation, and then answers the video call.
"hi lan zhan!" wei ying cheers, in his regular voice. to which, jiang cheng groans again and shoves his head deeper into wei ying's neck. amused, wei ying lowers his voice, "ah, sorry, hi lan zhan." and then excitedly, "how's the conference? are you eating well? do you miss us?"
jiang cheng can't see lan zhan's face, not from where he is screwing his eyes shut to catch some rare zzz's, but he's certain the edges of lan zhan's lips are tilted upwards as he responds with a simple, "mn."
"good." wei ying nods, jiang cheng can tell because his chin butts the top of jiang cheng's head. "we miss you, too. mr. sleepyhead here especially."
jiang cheng blindly swats at wei ying and mumbles, "he's wringing me dry. lan zhan, come back soon."
"mn." is all lan zhan can offer in terms of support as wei ying holds back his laughter. both of them now know better than to mess with jiang cheng's bedtime too much.
the three of them sit in the silence of the pair's apartment. lan zhan and wei ying smile at each other through the phone screen, with only the sound of jiang cheng's shallow breaths between them.
and then, lan zhan says, "i'm going to email jiang cheng photos of—"
jiang cheng's eyes snap open and he snatches the phone from wei ying's hands.
"don't you fucking dare."