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Jiang Cheng has always known Lan Xichen had never truly gotten over the deaths of his sworn brothers, no matter how well-adjusted he seemed after he left seclusion. They never spoke of it outright because they both know their respective histories weigh heavy on their shoulders. But with how often they were together, how could Jiang Cheng not notice? 

When he realized the cause for Xichen’s far-off stares or his moments of quiet mid-conversation was not some strange curse or partial possession by a resentful spirit, he almost felt worse instead of relieved. 

This was not an issue that could be fixed with talismans and dispelling harmful energy, but a problem within Xichen’s own mind. 

It’s said that time heals all wounds, but wouldn't a wound like this only worsen with time? 

Jiang Cheng, unable to stop such meddling thoughts from surfacing in his mind, grew frustrated watching Xichen drowning in his regrets and telling him how he wished things could have been different. 

No matter how much he wanted to change the past, some things could never be fixed. 

(Jiang Cheng had learned that the hard way, and it wasn't easy getting to where he is now.)

Realistically, Jiang Cheng knows what Xichen was going through is none of his business, but he can't sit still knowing he could be doing something to help. He has seen for himself how the ghosts of the past can still manage to haunt the living. 

(In his waking moments, when he would freeze because the smallest things would remind him of them. 

In his sleeping ones when he would mumble names of people long gone. 

In his nightmares where he would be startled awake, gasping and holding back sobs, trembling as he reached for Jiang Cheng, already awake and ready to receive him.)

Jiang Cheng has been through it himself, so he knows. 

At least like this, Lan Xichen wouldn’t be left alone like he had been. 

(He knows how heavy of a burden it is to kill a sworn brother, even if the world tells him he had done the right thing.)

And because he would only wish his worst enemies could go through the same suffering he had, there was no way in hell Jiang Cheng was going to let Lan Xichen of all people face his suffering by himself any longer. 

—

At first, he tried talking to him. 

He knows he’s not good at speaking about sensitive topics. His brusque words and lack of delicacy can attest to that. Between the two of them, it was Xichen who had a way with words, artfully stringing them together to remedy any situation he found himself in. He was everything Jiang Cheng wasn’t. His gentle presence, his soft smiles, even just being by his side was a comfort that soothed his cranky soul like a balm, warding away all of the malice and poisonous feelings Jiang Cheng kept locked within his heart, if only for a moment. 

Jiang Cheng has no such warmth in his words or his personality. He only knows how to be direct. His job was to give orders in hopes others will follow them. He could never be a source of comfort for anyone, not that he has ever wanted to be. Now that he finds himself wishing to be, he can’t find the right words to make people feel better. He had no idea where to begin easing another’s pain. 

But he tries anyway. 

“As much as it hurts to, you have to move on.”

I know how much you’re hurting. I’ve been there before too. 

“Don’t you see that you’re suffering as you are now? You’re only hurting yourself like this.”

Let me help you, please. I’m worried about you. 

“I don’t mean you need to forget that it ever happened, or not regret what you've done. But staying where you are won’t let you move forward.”

Won’t you stop looking at the past and look at me?

But Xichen had seemed to shut down at his words. Jiang Cheng swallowed down the bitter taste of defeat that clawed its way up his throat and threatening to suffocate him the moment Xichen merely closed his eyes and turned away. 

His words can’t reach him. They alone would never be enough. 

He would never be enough. 

Jiang Cheng had bit his bottom lip, sullen. He could already imagine the haggard look in Xichen’s eyes growing more and more tired and distant as they had when he had been in seclusion. Even with just his back turned, he could see how far away he seemed despite being close enough to touch. His mind was probably even further away. 

He wonders if he still has what it takes to bridge the gap growing between them. 

When Xichen finally looks at him again, Jiang Cheng doesn’t see how his gaze has become impossibly soft, as if suddenly remembering where he is, who he was with. He doesn't even notice how immediately he’s captured Xichen’s attention just by being here. He looks at him so fondly as Jiang Cheng is caught up in his own thoughts, seeing the furrow in his brow growing deeper with unspoken worry. As he steps closer to rub away the stress lines on his love’s brow, only then did Jiang Cheng snap himself out of his spiraling thoughts, not realizing how close he had gotten. Then, as Lan Xichen’s arms were looping around his middle and tugging him ever closer, Jiang Cheng can’t find it in himself to pull away. Xichen leans down to brush their lips together, kissing him deeply in lieu of a proper reply. 

Jiang Cheng had gasped into their kiss, Xichen’s breath hot and his lips soft against his own. A quiet moan escapes his throat, muffled by their mingling mouths. As the hands around his waist start to fumble with his sash and hastily undo his ties, Jiang Cheng has to wonder if Xichen sees somebody different in his place. If he ever wishes he could be with someone else when they did things like this. If he pretends he was sharing his bed with someone else. 

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be surprised. He’s never anyone’s first choice, after all. 

He has never been intimate with anyone else, though he’s sure that’s not the case for Lan Xichen. Maybe he just wants him for easy affection without the promise and ties of bearing children. Maybe he just wants to stay with him to forget his past for a short while. Maybe he’s with him to distract him from whatever’s on his mind, instead of allowing himself to leave it behind. 

Jiang Cheng tries to be satisfied with that, tries to be happy just to have him physically. If he really is just a distraction to him, he’ll be the best damn distraction he can be. Xichen won’t have room in his mind for anything else. Not when he’s lost in the heat of his body and enraptured by the sound of his gasping moans when their hips finally meet. He will make it so he won’t be able to think about anything else, just the taste of his lips and the touch of his skin. 

But after everything’s said and done, once they’re both brought back down to earth, Jiang Cheng wishes he could force his heart to stop aching. Even as he’s held tightly against Xichen’s sleeping chest and engulfed in his body’s warmth, he can’t help but feel cold and hollow inside, desperately wishing Xichen would love him back. 

But even if Xichen will never return his feelings, he will still do his damned best to help him through this. He refuses to lose anyone else he cares about, regardless of whether they care for him in return. 

(If Xichen won’t listen to words, then Jiang Cheng will have to resort to action. He can't stand this anymore. He won’t let this go on, not when Xichen deserves greater happiness than this. If he doesn’t want to lose him to his past, he will have to try harder.)

—

The next day, he sees Shuoyue in its sword stand. As usual, the sword emits a gentle glow, still channeling its owner’s spiritual energy. 

He gets an idea. Jiang Cheng eyes the smooth handle, the wide hilt, and the decorative ridges between the tip and the shaft with a meaningful stare. 

He nods to himself. He could start with this. 

—

A few nights later, after they have finished their duties just before they head to bed, Jiang Cheng asks why Xichen never carries his sword with him on nighthunts anymore. He’s been out of seclusion for a while now, and he’s only ever seen wielding Liebing. Surely, he must find it inconvenient to travel with him on Sandu when they need to go longer distances. 

“I can’t use Shuoyue anymore. Not after...“ he trails off in his response, warm honeyed eyes sad as they look somewhere past Jiang Cheng. 

Xichen, “I only unsheathe it for cleaning now. Even then...it’s hard for me to look at it.” 

Jiang Cheng nods solemnly in understanding. He had struggled with handling Chenqing at first, too, despite taking it with him all those years ago. “...Is it alright if I see it?” he forces himself to ask, voice soft. 

Xichen nods and retrieves it without hesitation and without asking him why, just as Jiang Cheng had hoped. There was no way he could explain this to him without sounding like some perverted fiend. When he returns, Xichen hands the sheathed sword to him with a pinched expression. Jiang Cheng’s heart soars at the blatant show of trust despite how much it clearly pains him, and then immediately quashes his own happiness knowing what he’s about to do next. 

Jiang Cheng examines the weapon in earnest, taking in the refined silver detailing along the hilt and the white-blue jade of the handle. He sneaks a glance at Xichen as he unsheathes it and sees him close his eyes, turning away from the exposed blade. 

Jiang Cheng hates seeing him hurting like this, so he turns his attention back to Shuoyue to finish his examination quickly. 

It was a respectable sword. The blade is shiny and clean and has not yet dulled. It glows with a cool blue aura from Lan Xichen's qi, but the light it emits feels warm and soft somehow, like Xichen’s own energy. Despite its lack of actual use, it’s clear that Shuoyue is very loved and well cared for, taking after its master like this. Other than its lowered levels of spiritual energy typical for its infrequent use, he notes it has been a while since the blade itself was last sharpened. Jiang Cheng internally promises to take care of Shuoyue with the same devotion he does with Sandu after this. When he sheathes it again, Xichen opens his eyes at the familiar sound. His gaze lowers to the weapon held out to him by Jiang Cheng. 

Xichen, “It’s a lovely sword, isn’t it? To be honest, I have missed wielding it dearly. It truly is a beautiful blade.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t speak, guilt eating away at him with every word that leaves his love’s mouth. Xichen continues, eyes reverently running along the handle and sheath as he finally takes it from Jiang Cheng’s hands. 

“It’s funny, isn’t it? This sword has taken countless lives, yet just one life was all it took to make me afraid of using it.” 

Xichen chuckles humorlessly, mostly to himself as Jiang Cheng tamps down hard on the sorrow and jealousy flaring up in his heart. Only once he's certain his voice will not shake does he allow himself to speak. 

“Thank you for trusting me with it...” His hands meet Xichen’s, holding them tight on the sword's sheath. Jiang Cheng knows his voice sounds a little stiff, but he hopes that Xichen knows that he truly means it. 

Jiang Cheng tugs them into bed, sitting in front of him as he pulls him closer, tilting his head up to kiss him softly on the lips. Their kiss is short but sweet. Xichen is so eager to return it, when Jiang Cheng pulls back for breath he leans forward with him, chasing his lips. 

Jiang Cheng blocks him from getting any closer, raising their linked hands and putting Shuoyue up like a wall between them. Xichen pouts at the rejection, looking like a pitiful begging puppy. Jiang Cheng has to steel his heart or his feelings of guilt will overwhelm him. 

Jiang Cheng, “...but I will need you to trust me with Shuoyue for a little longer.” 

Jiang Cheng places the sword in Xichen’s lap, hands retreating as Xichen’s remain on Shuoyue’s sheath. Considering what he’s about to do, Jiang Cheng is too embarrassed to look Xichen in the eyes, but he doesn't have to see the expression on his face to know his lover must be confused. 

“......Of course?” 

Jiang Cheng silences him with another brief kiss. “Don’t move.”

Xichen obeys, sitting with his spine ram-rod straight as he watches Jiang Cheng begin to strip before him, divesting himself of the inner robe and loose pants he had been wearing as sleepwear. The articles of clothing are easily tossed aside, leaving his body bare, showing off smooth skin and tanned muscle and pale scarring that only Xichen has ever been allowed to lay his eyes and fingers and lips upon. Jiang Cheng sits back, facing him with his legs splayed before reaching down to touch himself.  

To Xichen’s surprise, Jiang Cheng was already half-hard, only requiring a few firm strokes until his length stands fully erect. Then, his fingers delve lower. 

Xichen finds himself struggling to breathe properly as his eyes follow his hand downward, past his balls and to his little pink hole, already tight with anticipation. Jiang Cheng sighs, relaxing as he takes two fingers inside himself with practiced ease. He bites back a needy sound when they enter to the second knuckle and come away wet, already slippery with oil. 

He already prepared himself for me. 

An unbidden image of Jiang Cheng naked and wet from a bath, massaging scented oils into his tight passage in anticipation for tonight enters Lan Xichen’s mind. Xichen averts his gaze for a moment to take a deep breath. He can already feel the threads of his self-restraint fraying. 

“Xichen-ge…” Jiang Cheng very nearly moans, and Xichen snaps to attention at the sound of his needy voice, rarely so sweet and so seductive. He was usually so self-conscious when they slept together, hiding himself behind his arms and muffling his noises every chance he got. This was an especially rare treat. Xichen can’t take his eyes off the warm flush overtaking Jiang Cheng’s face, his steely grey-blue eyes never leaving his. “Watch me. Don’t stop looking at me…”

He reaches out for him, and Xichen instinctively meets him halfway, completely forgetting he was still holding Shuoyue. Instead of tossing the sword aside, much to his shock, Jiang Cheng reaches for the weapon instead of him. He takes the sword by the hilt while Xichen still holds it with one hand by the sheath. 

“From now on, whenever you draw your sword…”

He coats the metal tip of the handle in his own slick. His fingers wrap around the smooth icy jade with ease. Xichen can’t take his eyes off that hand, how it grabs and rubs the shaft of the handle in long slow strokes. He feels tendrils of envy and arousal curling in his gut as he wishes those fingers were wrapped around his cock instead.

“...I’ll make it so you’ll only be able to think of me and no one else.” 

—

Jiang Cheng sees Xichen’s grip turn white-knuckled around Shuoyue’s sheath as he guides its handle to the loosened pucker between his spread legs. He can only hope that that grip wasn’t from disgust or anger. But even if Xichen will hate him for doing this, he can’t let himself stop now, not when he’s already come this far. 

The metal tip brushes against his well-oiled hole, eliciting a small mewling sound from the back of his throat as he squeezes his eyes shut and starts to slip it in. Lan Xichen stares wide-eyed as the end of the handle starts to disappear inside him. 

Jiang Cheng chokes out a gasp once the bulbous, rounded end sinks within him completely, walls twitching fervently to adjust around the new width as quickly as possible. Once he forces his body to relax, with fierce determination, he pushes in a little more, wincing and having to stop again once cool stone starts to breach his hole. Unlike Xichen’s length, the sword was icily cold. Even against his already softened insides, the difference in temperature makes him hiss in discomfort. He had been so used to impaling himself on the heat of Xichen’s cock that anything else felt significantly less satisfying. 

But he has to endure. 

Although Jiang Cheng was controlling the sword’s pace, he could see Xichen’s hand where it gripped the sheath when he glanced down. Xichen is still frozen in shock and has not moved at all. But, for Jiang Cheng, it’s quite easy to pretend that Xichen was the one easing Shuoyue into him. He imagines how eager Xichen would be if he had wanted this too. How hungry his eyes would look as he would watch him swallow up his sword to the hilt. How insufferable his teasing would be had he been the one controlling the sword's pace. A desperate plea of Xichen-ge, deeper...please, more! escapes his lips in the fantasy that plays out in his mind and he can no longer hold back his moans at the thought of Xichen bullying him relentlessly with Shuoyue’s shaft. A familiar heat starts to spread through his body as his imagination goes off-course, abandoning his plan entirely. Where Xichen-ge is so impatient to have him, he rips Shuoyue's handle out of him right after he’s just put it in. Then, Jiang Cheng's back arches as something else is thrusting into him instead, something hotter and thicker breaching his rim and filling him up. He wants him so much his heart hurts. If Xichen would let him, he could be all his. He would be so desperate to please him, to tempt and to tease, to make all of Xichen's mental restraints snap and watch him unable to hold back his desires, all because of him. He would gladly open up his body just for him to take, have his Xichen-ge make him even more loose and willing by wringing out as much pleasure from him as he could. 

But that was only a mere fantasy. Xichen would never want him that way. As he eases more of the stiff and cold handle into himself, he mentally cuts his imagination short so he doesn’t come too soon.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen bites his bottom lip hard, nearly enough to bleed when he hears Jiang Cheng masking his name with a wanton moan, clearly lost in his own head as Shuoyue enters deeper inside him. 

What was he imagining?

Xichen feels that familiar tug of envy coiling around his heart, returning with a vengeance for stealing away his love’s attention from right in front of him. Even if that other man was himself, he would not be taking Jiang Cheng’s affections from him so easily. He redirects his anger and attention to his spiritual weapon, looking at it as if it has betrayed him. 

By now, the sword handle was about halfway inside, trembling slightly as his rim quivers around it. Jiang Cheng’s hands have fallen away, clutching at the bedsheets. His breaths stutter in his chest, panting and mewling as he occasionally clenches around the length already filling him. His cock was still so hard, slightly curved and its head red and swollen as precum gushes onto his stomach. 

If just this much was enough to make him look as debauched as this, how would he feel once it was all the way in? 

Xichen feels his ears glowing with heat as such dirty thoughts enter his mind. Now that Jiang Cheng has released Shuoyue, Xichen uses this chance to shift it a little inside him, relishing in his poorly held back whine that grows higher in pitch and gets louder and louder the more he moves it. Xichen’s cock throbs as he watches Jiang Cheng lose himself in the throes of pleasure, unable to quiet himself any longer. 

Xichen adjusts his grip on Shuoyue, shifting his hand higher so he has better leverage at the hilt. He can just barely hold back the urge to shove the rest inside of Jiang Cheng, moving it deep inside him with reckless abandon until he falls apart, screaming his name. 

But he forces himself to be patient. The reward was always much sweeter when he forced himself to wait. 

He eases the handle in further, gently pressing it in deeper until it edges closer and closer to where Jiang Cheng is most sensitive. It’s more than halfway in now. Jiang Cheng’s eyes fly open once he realizes too late what Xichen was doing, scrambling to grab his wrist, but his grip is too shaky and weak to stop him. 

“Ngh! D-don’t—! Don't put it in so s-suddenly..! A-ah, let me...ah...adjust first…” 

The way his hole twitches around the handle’s girth is tantalizing. Xichen can’t look away. As Jiang Cheng was speaking, he had inserted another small bit into his awaiting hole, transfixed as it fluttered around the sudden intrusion, interrupting his words and making his voice hitch and stutter as he kept putting more of it in. Jiang Cheng muffles a whine in his other hand. Xichen’s fingers twitch with how close he was to making Jiang Cheng completely lose himself. 

His lauded patience has finally run out. He pushes Jiang Cheng gently back so he falls flat on his back against the sheets, knees bent in the air and spread wide. 

Without warning, Xichen pulls out the handle to the tip, then pushes all the way in until Jiang Cheng cries out, body arching clean off the bed. The end of his sword must have hit something inside him because Jiang Cheng’s body grows taut, tensing hard as he comes right then, his head thrown back as his mouth falls open in pure ecstasy. 

As Jiang Cheng stains his abdomen in streaks of white, Xichen finally allows himself to move,  his own robes already ripped away as he rushes to him, to touch and to taste. He crushes his mouth against Jiang Cheng’s to kiss him hard, groaning against his open lips as he sweeps his tongue in, hands wandering all over, desperate for contact with his heated skin. 

His hands firmly grip Jiang Cheng's pert ass before they trail up his slim waist and along his sensitive sides until they linger on his heaving chest, shamelessly touching and groping. He savors Jiang Cheng’s high cries and soft moans as he sucks heated kisses into his neck and pinches his exposed nipples, rubbing the dark softened buds until they stiffen, teased hard and pink under his fingers. 

The assault on his body was nearly enough to drive Jiang Cheng mad. He just came, so his body was already at its peak sensitivity. How dare Xichen take advantage of his weakened state just to overwhelm his senses further!!

But even cursing was beyond his faculties at the moment. Words were too much for his brain to form, his mind still hazy and reeling from orgasm. The only thing he could do was lay back and moan as he took what Xichen was giving him, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as Lan Xichen continued to leave open-mouthed kisses and marks up and down his body, those hands never stopping on his chest even as his nipples grew puffy and oversensitive. 

As soon as his lower half finally seemed to calm down and his mind cleared a bit, Jiang Cheng almost appreciated the ministrations distracting him from the mess he must be down below.

But then, Xichen’s knee accidentally jostles the sword still laying on the bed, making Shuoyue press against that spot inside him that makes him see white sparks behind his eyelids. He bites back a curse as arousal starts to flood between his legs again. His dick twitches, soft against his stomach as it attempts to get hard once more. Xichen must notice his reaction because he pauses his attack on his chest to look down. 

Once he looks back at him again, he has a mischievous glint in his deceptively innocent doe-like eyes. 

As attractive as that look is on him, Jiang Cheng doesn’t like it one bit. That look could only mean he must be up to something. 

He’s immediately on edge but too tired to resist Xichen lifting and maneuvering his wrists, pinning them with one hand against the bed above his head. With his infamous arm strength, Jiang Cheng already knows struggling is futile. And Xichen sits between his open legs, making it impossible for him to hide the shameful state his lower half was in. 

To his horror, Jiang Cheng watches as his other hand forms a sword seal. He can’t do anything but squirm when he feels the handle inside him begins to move, completely untouched. 

Was Xichen trying to kill him?? He can’t go again already!!

But Xichen appears to have no intention of stopping, eyes closed in concentration as he uses his qi to thrust Shuoyue shallowly in and out of his spent body. His control is slightly shaky at first, but he seems to relearn his technique quickly, soon thrusting the sword handle in earnest, much to Jiang Cheng’s dismay. He can feel every tiny bump and notch in the handle's detailed surface. The hard jade ridges along the handle’s edges hit against his sweet spot and mercilessly rub against the walls of his insides. Each thrust was so damn slow. The cool jade has long since warmed up by now, and each stroke drags hot trails of solid unrelenting heat against his softened walls. There’s hardly any friction, so the repeated motions don’t hurt, but the bumps in the metal carvings catch on the sensitive flesh of his rim, making him inadvertently clench around it tighter. This only makes him feel each movement even more acutely, making his body more sensitive to the hard object filling him up, and then makes him clench down even harder in retaliation. It becomes a vicious cycle with no end in sight. He's unable to think about anything else besides the sword handle pistoning in and out of him, his body enduring this torture as he remains immobilized under Lan Xichen. 

Jiang Cheng whimpers as he feels more pre-cum spill from his cock as he gets hard again. The arousal flooding into his hips was undeniable now. A gradual warmth that started from the incessant object moving inside him takes root in his core. It creeps its way up his hips, to his chest, to his limbs, and to his head, making his thoughts less and less coherent as his torment continues. As a feverish heat spreads through his body, it makes way for the slowly mounting pleasure to come, slowly building it up again. His hips start to shift without him meaning to, moving in time with the sword’s thrusts, unconsciously chasing that mind-numbing peak that had caught him by surprise earlier. Shuoyue’s pace gradually picks up. Almost every thrust presses its rounded end against his most sensitive spot so hard he swears he sees stars. They tear unhindered moans from his throat and make his toes curl and his heels dig into the bed every time it accurately finds its mark. Jiang Cheng tries moving his wrists, uselessly struggling to escape as Xichen continues to use Shuoyue to plunder his hole, still twitching around its uneven girth as it moves even faster. His loud moans occasionally turn into garbled noises while the sword continues toying with his insides, pressing heat deep into his guts with each ceaseless thrust. 

“Ah, ah, ah!”

Only until more ropes of white shoot and drip from his cock does Xichen finally grant him some reprieve, releasing his wrists as the weapon inside him finally stops, fully sheathed inside him. 

But his freedom is short-lived. 

Before he can catch his breath, warm wet heat returns to the red swollen peaks on his chest. Xichen’s tongue continues to lick and tease the sensitive nubs as if he had not been interrupted before. Jiang Cheng is thoroughly distracted, not even noticing the hand that returns to Shuoyue between his shaking legs. As Xichen starts to pull the handle out, Jiang Cheng nearly sobs in relief, thinking that he was finished. But once he starts sliding it back in again, Jiang Cheng scrambles to hold onto Xichen’s shoulders, clutching at him in wordless desperation until he cries, 

“X-xichen-ge... ah! No, please, n-no more..! Have mercy—!” 

In this position, Jiang Cheng can’t see Xichen’s darkening expression with how tightly he’s holding onto him. Even if he could see his face, he would still have to try to see through the fog of arousal clouding his mind as jolts from even the slightest of movements that continue to overstimulate his poor tired body. 

If he had been able to see through all of that, Jiang Cheng would have noticed that Xichen’s usual kind smile was gone from his face. 

(But he can’t, so he doesn’t.)

“Wanyin, how could you use Shuoyue like this?”

As he says this, Xichen accompanies his words with a hard thrust that shakes Jiang Cheng to his very core. He cries out miserably, unable to respond. Upon hearing his words, Jiang Cheng feels his blood turn to ice. He’s never heard Lan Xichen sound so cold before. Was he angry with him? He feels fear bloom in his heart as Xichen continues, voice low and deep and rough, as if from holding himself back. “You choose my own spiritual weapon over me, and now you want me to show mercy?” 

He thrusts in again but this time, he grinds the sword’s end into his sweet spot in hard, agonizing circles as he grits out the last word. Jiang Cheng wails, tossing his head back against the bed.

“Does it feel better than mine?” Xichen asks, tone still as chilling as winter itself. Jiang Cheng bites his lip and shakes his head, desperately trying to convince him. He can't trust his voice, not when he can still feel his insides throbbing and begging for more despite his rough treatment. Distantly, he has the realization that Xichen has become envious of Shuoyue, and the thought would be vindictively satisfying if he wasn’t under him and at his complete mercy. 

Xichen’s voice sounds just as cold and condemning as before but takes on a teasing tone at Jiang Cheng’s immediate frantic response. “Oh? Don’t lie to me. Who was the one who wanted to use my sword for such shameless purposes? Tell me, whose idea was this?” 

Jiang Cheng feels hot shame wash over him at Xichen’s scolding, taking his words to heart. A chill runs down his spine at the same time heat from his arousal swells to its peak, doubly ashamed when he finds himself getting even harder hearing Xichen’s voice, cruel and harsh and fueled by envy. He’s too embarrassed to formulate a response, but also too stubborn to admit that he came up with such an idea himself. He can’t say anything to defend himself, not now and not when Xichen suddenly picks up the pace, moving the handle faster until he can hear it making lewd wet sounds every time it enters him. 

Whether he means to or not, Xichen channels spiritual energy directly into the sword’s handle. Even though the sword had been storing some amount of qi before, Jiang Cheng had only been able to sense it, not feel it moving against him like this. There’s now so much Jiang Cheng can feel qi thrumming along the end of the sword inside of him, melding slightly with his own spiritual energy. The energy is warm and pleasant at first but continues to grow steadily stronger. The only sounds he can make in response are pitiful strangled noises when Shuoyue hits against his most sensitive spots with its newfound energy, tingling and magnifying his sense of touch all along his passage until it just borders on too much. 

“Now whenever I draw my sword, I’ll only be able to think about you impaled by it so wantonly, so desperate to take it in deeper. Is this how you wanted to torment me?”

“No!” Jiang Cheng finally protests, voice cracking, his throat hoarse and wrecked, “no, that’s not what I—“

Before he can finish, Jiang Cheng interrupts himself with his own agonized scream as the energy channeled into the hilt from Xichen’s hand becomes too much for the sword to keep contained. The qi that had started as a soft hum ramps up to a strong pulse, surging energy directly into Jiang Cheng who wasn’t expecting it at all. The energy coursing through him is so strong, it makes Shuoyue vibrate inside him, making his body even more sensitive as it tries to discharge all of the excess into his body. All of the extra energy charges into his own golden core, mixing in with his own qi and overwhelming the rest of his body with an overabundance of spiritual power. Powerful waves continue to shock him inside and out, the strongest undoubtedly coming from the handle within him, electrifying his hypersensitive walls and his abused prostate, overtaking him with heat and pure energy so strong, he writhes, helpless and convulsing with pleasure as the sensation becomes too much far too fast. 

He comes. 

Or, at least, he thinks he does. He feels like he does. That unstoppable wave of another orgasm feels like it crashes into him as he tries to ride through it without drowning in it. It numbs of all of his senses even as his body is overwhelmed with heat and sensation until he only feels blinding pleasure coursing through his veins, bombarding his nerves and mind into white-hot senselessness. There’s no way he could have mistaken that feeling for anything else.

But when he peeks down at himself after blinking away tears of pleasure swimming in his vision, he’s shocked to see his length still standing tall even as the feeling ebbs, balls tight and his belly wet from clear liquid dribbling down steadily from the tip of his cock. 

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he instictively turns to Xichen with a pitiful whine, begging him to help relieve his aching from deep inside, to make him feel good, to show him what makes him completely fall apart before he puts him back together.

And, for the first time, between the trembling sprawl of his legs, he can see the look on Xichen’s face. 

He doesn’t look angry. His pristine face was reddened by a glowing blush to his cheeks, spreading to his ears and down his neck. But he keeps his expression neutral and unreadable, cold and unsmiling. 

It’s almost worse than seeing him look angry. 

The hard line of his lips and his eyes are what make Jiang Cheng pause. His stare looked so dark, unlike his eyes that were usually so soft and kind. Their usual deep warm brown that made him feel safe and comforted was now replaced with a possessiveness and a bone-deep hunger, an all-consuming desire that Jiang Cheng has only seen once before. When they had shared a bed together for the very first time. When he had reluctantly admitted to Xichen he had never slept with anyone before. 

The look in his eyes then had been exactly the same as they are now.

But back then, Xichen had been painfully, achingly gentle with him. Until he had melted  under him completely yet still begged him for more. Now, he looks cold and cruel and unfeeling, envy burning in his eyes as he readjusts his grip on Shuoyue again, shoving it against his weakened walls after the handle’s energy finally died down. 

Nngh!!

Xichen rasps, “Are you happy now that you got what you wanted? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

He ignores Jiang Cheng’s tortured sobs as he twists the sword handle inside him, pressing it against all of his sensitive spots at once with its raised ridges and uneven surfaces. His body tightens around it on instinct. Jiang Cheng silently screams, eyes rolling back as his body really, truly, can’t take anymore. He can’t even clench around the handle by his own will, his hole too loose and his muscles too tired to listen. 

No...I never wanted this...I want you..!

Xichen’s hands never stops as he continues. “What was it that you said before? That you wanted me to think of no one else but you? Even though you wanted me to move on from my feelings for you just days ago? Do you enjoy toying with my heart like this? How shallow do you think my feelings are? Even if I could just replace my old memories with new ones, I could never forget you!!”  

Wait...what? 

“W-what are you sayi—mmnh!!” 

But Jiang Cheng can’t ask what he means, not when he‘s being teased so cruelly. He can only moan and writhe helplessly as Xichen starts Shuoyue’s thrusting again with renewed vigor. 

A-ahn, no, wait—! 

Xichen, “Now, instead of blood on my blade, I’ll only ever be able to remember you…” 

Jiang Cheng’s moans brokenly as he thrusts Shuoyue’s handle into him again. 

“...speared on my sword…”

Another thrust, harder this time. 

“Just. Like. This.”

His thrusts get progressively harder, punctuated by each word. 

“Nnnh! Uuhn! Uhn! uuuu…” Jiang Cheng can only sob as he comes again, his entire body wracked with tremors as he becomes more and more of a incoherent mess. Xichen mercilessly fucks him through another orgasm until his cock weakly splurts out clear watery essence as his insides are rubbed raw, his throbbing walls all sore and sensitive. He’s barely conscious once Shuoyue stops moving. Jiang Cheng finds that he also can’t move his aching body, finally completely exhausted as he lays on the bed in a wrecked and boneless heap. 

He doesn’t even notice that Lan Xichen has started mumbling to himself. 

“You wanted me to replace...my old memories with new ones…” Xichen says slowly, repeating his own words from before like he realized something. “You...wanted to make me forget what I had used this sword for...way back when? Back then at Guanyin Temple?” 

With wide eyes and this new knowledge, Xichen moves to yank Shuoyue out of his swollen and abused hole and tosses it aside. Jiang Cheng keens as the combination of jade and metal tug on his walls one last time. He feels his hole twitching uncontrollably at the sudden emptiness, his legs still shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

As soon as the sword handle leaves him, Jiang Cheng tries his best to sit up, wincing as he puts pressure where he’s most tender. But he ignores his pain to cling to Xichen, looping his arms around his neck. “..P-please don’t hate me…” He can’t stop his tears of shame and humiliation from spilling over. He continues, voice trembling with sobs. “I-I know I’ve done wrong, so please, please forgive me! I’ll do anything! A-Huan, you have to believe me, I didn’t mean to choose between you and your spiritual weapon, I just wanted to help you—“

He’s interrupted by Lan Xichen, who surges forward to kiss him. He rushes forward with so much enthusiasm, he knocks them both back over, Jiang Cheng pinned under him again with his legs wrapped around his waist. He groans into their passionate kiss, his heart racing as his tongue licks the seam of his lips before delving inside. When Xichen finally breaks apart from him, Jiang Cheng pants for air, kissed breathless. 

Xichen gently wipes Jiang Cheng’s tears away, emotional as words spill from his mouth, rushing to tell him,

“No, A-Cheng! I could never hate you. I should be the one apologizing to you! I had lost all control when I thought you didn’t want me. Even the thought of someone else pleasuring you— It makes me lose myself with jealousy. I...thought you were unhappy being with me. That you wanted me to find someone else because you were not satisfied. But I was a fool. I should have been more aware of your feelings. I should be thankful you would go to such lengths for me. I should be thanking you. For thinking of me. For worrying about me.”

Xichen peppers soft, gentle kisses all over his face. Jiang Cheng is relieved at how softly he is being treated now compared to the ruthlessness from earlier. He curses at and proceeds to mentally lock away the half of his heart that secretly yearns for that roughness again. Instead, he focuses on the warmth of Xichen’s embrace flooding into his heart, warming him from the inside as he feels him smile against his skin. 

“That’s the first time you called me A-Huan. I’m so happy,” he pecks a quick kiss to Jiang Cheng’s lips. “I love you. And you alone. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. You, who has always been with me when no one else wanted anything to do with me. You’ve done more than enough to make me happy. If only I could change the past so that we could have met sooner, it would have saved us so much grief. But now I know better.” 

He wraps Jiang Cheng in an even tighter hug as if trying to engulf him in his feelings for him, surrounding him physically with his love and devotion. 

Xichen, “Nothing, not even the past, can keep me from what I’ve been given now. I’ve been blind to your worry, and I made you lose faith in me. For that, I’m sorry. I will do better by you, but for now, know I wouldn’t give you up for anything. Never. Not if I would lose you.” 

He leaves another reverent kiss on his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, and his lips. 

“A-Cheng,” he says again, soft and genuine. “I love you. Will you forgive me?” 

Jiang Cheng can’t stop his heart from bursting with emotion, even though he was too speechless to say a word as Xichen so clearly confirmed that he returned his feelings. His heart was spilling over with indescribable joy, body trembling against him as he rushes to hug him harder. Xichen had never been so direct with his feelings before and had never spoken of them so outright. His words were so bold and direct, they make Jiang Cheng feel shy all of a sudden. 

So he stops thinking altogether. He squeezes his eyes shut and plants a kiss on the corner of Xichen’s lips, looking away when he mumbles, 

“You shameless...Of course I forgive you. I l-love you too…” 

His whole body flushes warm. How could he feel so embarrassed when they had just done something much more embarrassing literally moments ago?? He hates the blush that must be taking over his face by now, so he tries to twist away from Xichen to hide away under the blankets forever. 

But Lan Xichen isn’t finished yet. 

When Xichen wrestles Jiang Cheng back into his grip, he eventually successfully pins his wrists to either side of his head.

“Between the two of us, who is more shameless, I wonder?”

Once Jiang Cheng finally gives up on escaping, he sees Xichen’s darkened gaze return for a moment. The gaze that had been filled with hunger and lust just for him. 

Jiang Cheng feels a shiver shake him to his core as his traitorous dick twitches at the sight. 

“To be honest...I’m still quite upset. What have you done to me, A-Cheng? Every time I will try to hold, no, even look at Shuoyue from now on, I’ll only be able to think about everything that happened tonight.” 

Xichen leaves a hot trail of kisses against his neck again, tongue laving at red marks that have already formed from earlier. “I’ll only be able to think about you…” His lips trail up his jaw and nibble at his sensitive earlobe. Jiang Cheng trembles as he whispers into his ear. 

“How will you take responsibility for your actions, A-Cheng?”

Xichen glances at his discarded sword ruefully, and Jiang Cheng follows his gaze to Shuoyue’s handle, still shiny and wet with unspeakable fluids. He feels his body flush and his face redden again with hot shame. 

Lan Xichen’s kind but teasing smile returns as he turns back to look at him, mischievous as ever. “Since A-Cheng said he would do anything for my forgiveness, I think a little punishment will have to do for tonight.”

Jiang Cheng gulps nervously. “P-punishment?” 

His breath hitches as he feels the tip of a much bigger, thicker weapon brushing against his loosened rim, his hole already soft and pliant from their thorough preparations earlier. 

“I think a few more rounds should make up for the torment you and Shuoyue put me through. What do you think, A-Cheng?”