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***
Lan Xichen
Dinner on Tuesday?
Wangji
Just the two of us, at your place. Yes.
Lan Xichen
Instead of the Cloud Recesses?
Wangji
Correct.
Lan Xichen
I"ll see you at 5pm.
Xichen lays his head back against A-Yao"s leg from where he sits on the floor. Wangji disapproves. Xichen does not understand why Wangji disapproves. Jin Guangyao"s past should be of no consequence in the light of his recent actions of revealing both his father"s and Wen Ruohan"s abuses, his time working for the Nightless City—
Xichen does not think about it. Except for when he does, when it creeps up to the forefront of his mind and demands his attention.
He"s not so deep in thought that he misses when A-Yao closes the lid to his laptop and uncurls his legs beneath him on the sofa. Xichen shifts from seated up onto his knees, not on his heels, and folds his hands behind his back.
"Always so attentive, Xichen." A-Yao reaches out and cups the back of Xichen"s bare neck in his hand, and Xichen bows his head.
"I would offer you no less, A-Yao." It"s a preference to sit below A-Yao in the privacy of his home, not an expectation. To serve when it"s not expected offers him the same spike of pleasure, deep inside of his heart, as serving Wangji.
"May I ask if you have plans tonight?"
Jin Guangyao"s hand leaves his neck. "Eyes up. Why do you ask?"
It is a relief for their gazes to meet.
Xichen doesn"t need to say anything before A-Yao nods. "Ah. Let"s dispense with the formalities this evening. Come." He pats the sofa beside him, and Xichen does not need to be told twice. Jin Guangyao tucks himself alongside Xichen; Xichen rests an arm around his waist. They reorient themselves in silence as Xichen.
"I"d like to propose a scene. With you and Wangji, and myself."
It is not often Xichen surprises Jin Guangyao. It is usually the other way around. But when A-Yao twists to look at him, Xichen flushes.
"Oh?" A-Yao"s right eyebrow sweeps upward in the curve of a question mark.
Xichen persists. "I would belong to you both."
A-Yao presses his lips together, but his body stays relaxed against Xichen. "Are you quite sure?"
"I am." He reaches up and strokes his lips across A-Yao"s lips and is rewarded with a gentle kiss to the pad of his thumb.
"I am a pariah, Lan Xichen." A-Yao wraps his fingers around Xichen"s wrist and pulls his hand down but does not release it.
"You are Lianfang-zun."
Jin Guangyao sighs, fingers twitching against Xichen"s wrist. "A name does not translate to acceptance."
Xichen hears, knows, the bitterness in Jin Guangyao"s voice. Jin Guangyao. Xichen knows.
"You say that like I"m unaware of the politics at play."
"I say it like you are oblivious to my origin within this scene."
"I understand the weight of rumors, A-Yao," Xichen protests.
"No. Xichen. They aren"t rumors. They"re the truth that people wish to like me for but resent me for disrupting the status quo. Nobody wants a whore putting his nose where it doesn"t belong."
It"s the closest A-Yao"s ever come to losing his temper.
"That has nothing to do with Wangji—"
"Xichen." A-Yao sighs. "Talk to your brother. If he wants a scene between the three of us, we"ll discuss it."
***
On Tuesday, Xichen kneels for you as soon as you walk in the door to his apartment. You know you should stop him. Your hand strokes through his hair, down his cheek, you trace the curve of his mouth. Down lower, your fingertips caress his throat, and his head tips back as he offers himself up. He has never resisted your touch.
“Xiongzhang.”
"Wangji." His eyes open, and you fight down the rising urge to claim him.
When you left the Cloud Recesses, you promised him you were not leaving him, and he had not believed you. For the first time in your life, you gave him cause not to believe you. You gave him no cause and yet—
Waiting on the coffee table, as if this were any typical Tuesday night with your brother, is a deep teal collar. It is the only collar Lan Xichen allows around his throat; you are the only one allowed to place it there.
So you do. You set it around his throat without adjusting. Secure it into place with a lock keyed to your thumbprint. Xichen’s breath hitches at the "snick."
You should let your brother rise, let him stand, to have a conversation. Uncollared. On a level playing ground. Over the meal that is keeping warm in the kitchen. You should, but you do not. Your finger finds the O-ring on his collar, and you pull him to his feet, into the bedroom.
You need him. You need this.
In the bedroom, on the side of the bed, you consider yours, rests a pair of reading glasses you do not need, a charger for a phone model neither you nor your brother owns, and a pair of slippers several sizes too small.
"Every time you go somewhere, you"re leaving someplace behind, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying"s voice echoes in your head. He hadn"t even been talking about your brother, but his.
Wei Ying—
Jin Guangyao—
How can you believe someone to be unworthy of your brother when you cannot be worthy of him yourself?
You turn to your brother, and he catches you before you are aware you are moving into his arms.
You do not overcome the desire to possess. You never will. You take your brother"s head in your hands, and you kiss him. You push him back against the bedroom door and remind him that you are not leaving him.
The shape of words does not always rest easily on your tongue, but you have never needed words with your brother. You kiss into his mouth your devotion. You reaffirm your ownership but also your love.
There is salt on your tongue, and you take that, give that back, too.
Your hands move to find the buttons of his shirt, fumble over them because you are more focused on the shape of your brother"s mouth under yours than you are on undressing him. Yet the heat of his skin calls to you.
The faded bite at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder is the first thing you see. You read it for the message that it is from Jin Guangyao. You mouth at it, tongue tracing skin until your brother is moaning your name. You kiss across his collar bone, and your teeth sink into the opposite, unmarked, side.
Xichen"s hands close around your hips as he braces himself against the door. You suck a new bruise to the surface of his skin. You do not need words with your brother, not even like this.
Fingers find nipples, and you pinch, twist them in your grip. Then your mouth covers one, bites. You kiss across your brother"s chest to the other nipple. He moans your name again, and you smile against his skin and leave another bruise.
By the time you sink to your knees, his cock is already hard. You don"t waste time stripping him, of getting his fly down and his cock out and into your mouth. It"s heavy on your tongue; it feels right.
Xichen"s hands are flat against the door. You take his wrist, guide his unresisting hand to the back of your head. The pull of his hand in your hair grounds you as you wrap one hand around the base of his cock and swallow, throat stretching, eyes burning.
"Wangji, what—" The spasm of your throat around his dick cuts off anything else he was going to say. He does not try again, and you wouldn"t be able to say anything even if you had an answer.
You draw back and suck at the head of his cock, eyes closed. You feel the weight of his gaze as you curl your tongue around his cockhead. Yet, you don"t torment him because this isn"t about that tonight, and instead, you swallow him down. Hold him in your throat until tears spill down your cheeks.
The hand in your hair is too tight. You don"t care. You bring both hands up and cup his ass in your palms. He is too well trained to consider fucking into your mouth, so you urge him to it. However cautious, saliva pools as he moves, but you don"t care about being neat or attractive.
Your brother is gasping above you. Whining. You don"t stop even when he starts to beg, but when you pull back to suck in a breath—
"Come in my mouth." Your voice doesn"t sound like your own.
You take the head of his cock back onto your tongue, fist your hand around his shaft, and jerk your brother off until he comes in your mouth, on your chin. You swallow as much as you can, lick the tip of his cock until he"s whimpering in overstimulation.
Then you rest your forehead against his thigh. Xichen"s hand unclenches from your hair and begins to stroke the crown of your head. You stay there until the dull ache of your knees pulls you back to awareness, and finally, you rise and face your brother.
You touch the faded mark on his right shoulder, fingers pushing against the greenish blur of skin, but it"s not so fresh it draws a reaction.
At least, not one of pain.
Your brother reaches out and cups your face in his hands, and your eyes meet.
“Xiongzhang.”
"Wangji," he says, with a smile, you think you are the only one to have ever seen.
"I did not leave you," you say, finding the words for him. "I will not leave you."
"I know." And this time, you think, he believes you.
His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, and he closes the space between the two of you to kiss you. So much softer than your desperate kisses.
When it"s done, there is an awkward, silent shuffle to clean up. To wash your face, rinse your mouth for both of you to straighten your hair and clothes. Your eyes linger on the extra toothbrush tucked away beside your own, the third row of skincare products. Your brother rests his hand at the small of your back.
"He will not thank me for saying this, but he is afraid you think poorly of him because of where he came from."
"Hmh." You don"t stop the little snort of breath, but you shake your head.
You two return to the bed, where you tuck yourself against his chest as if you were a small child again, and he says nothing but allows you to settle. There is so much space, you realize, so much space in Lan Xichen"s heart.
You do not feel trapped as the Second Jade of Lan. It is the Cloud Recesses that is not enough for you, now. Your brother does not want the same freedom.
Something changed when Wei Ying crashed into your life and upended everything with a smile.
Something changed, somewhere, when Jin Guangyao smiled at your brother.
If all you see is smoke and mirrors when you look at Jin Guangyao, what does your brother see when he looks at Wei Ying?
Neither one of you understand. You might never understand. You and your brother are two halves of the same whole. You both, individually, are learning how to be your own people.
You do not have to like this.
Your brother makes space; is attempting to create within himself room to hold you both. He is a more generous man than you will ever be.
The words unfreeze. "I have placed you upon a pedestal."
"It is a traditional Lan failing." Your brother strokes his hand through your hair, and you close your eyes to the gentle touch.
"I would not become our father—"
"You are not, Wangji."
"Let me finish." You sit up beside him and stare down at a face so familiar it might as well be your own. "I would not become our father, so convinced I am doing the right thing that I lost sight of the person I am trying to do the right thing by."
You push through your discomfort, through the way the words want to catch on themselves as they come out of your mouth.
"I do not like Jin Guangyao." You and your brother breathe in at the same time. "You do not like Wei Ying." Your brother does not protest.
"It feels as if he is stealing you away from the Cloud Recesses—from me."
"You want to wear Jin Guangyao"s collar."
It is your brother who looks away first, and you reach out and turn his face back to yours, hand warm on his cheek.
"I am leaving the Cloud Recesses because you are the only thing there I want." You do not want to have this conversation, but you"d rather this than the growing space between you and your brother.
You watch him fight to maintain your gaze, his throat working. "I would not be our father," he echoes back to you. "I would not have you be our mother, either."
A corner of your mouth twitches and then tips up, and your brother outright laughs; it"s not an entirely happy sound.
"Aren"t we a pair, Wangji?" He sits up, and together you lean to one another as if you"re reaching for one another"s light—forehead to forehead, hand to each other"s cheeks.
"The Twin Jades of Lan."
"A pair of fools."
"Hm." You kiss him on the lips, and he kisses you in return, but none of this is over. You curl your fingers in the warm leather around your brother"s throat, and he instinctively tips his head back in offering.
"Am I selfish for wanting both collars?"
Uncertainty is never a good look for your brother. You don"t know if you can bear to share him.
In the end, there is only one answer: "No."
"I want him, Wangji. If you could see him as I do, perhaps you could understand why. A scene. Here, not at the Cloud Recesses."
Your brother is not asking you to explain Wei Ying. Yet you would see Jin Guangyao prove himself to you. It is your collar locked around Lan Xichen"s throat; it is your right to judge.
Under the leather of your brother"s collar, you stroke his skin. "A scene," you agree.
***
You spend two Tuesdays with your brother and Jin Guangyao. One for discussion, and one for the scene.
Your brother is, as always, eager to please. But you know him, and you see the tension that bleeds down his arms and the line of his spine. Is this your fault? You would lay the blame at Jin Guangyao"s feet, but you are not so willfully ignorant.
Here is your brother, his naked throat a cause for tension. You never wanted to understand your father"s possessive control. Yet, it is difficult to imagine sharing your brother; you know that you have to try. The world praises you for being a fair man, a thoughtful man, yet you know the real truth—the ugly desire to hold tight, own, and possess.
Jin Guangyao blindfolds him. It is for the best that Xichen cannot see your face. You"ll hurt him if he knows how hard this is for you.
Jin Guangyao is staring at you over Xichen’s head, stroking his hand over your brother’s hair. You meet his eyes and hold his gaze. There is a bland smile on his face; for a moment, you wish you could knock it off his lips.
"May I have the pleasure of watching for a while?" Jin Guangyao asks.
How much does Jin Guangyao know you, through your brother? Your reputation is one thing, but this relationship with him is private.
"Xiongzhang." It snaps Xichen"s attention to you and away from the hand in his hair. He lifts his head in your direction. You"d smile if you were a different man. "Come."
The world narrows, and you"re aware of Jin Guangyao stepping back, but your focus is on your brother now. How he drops down to his hands and knees and, blindfolded, crawls to your feet.
It is your hand that strokes through his hair now. Gentle, at first, until you fist your hand in the thick of it at the nape of his neck. With your body, not just the grip, you lean down and pull him upright.
A touch at the hem of his shirt, and then the top of his fly. Xichen undresses without a word needing to be exchanged. You feel Jin Gaungyao"s gaze like a physical weight as he watches the two of you move in sync—as he watches your brother strip naked for you.
Neither you nor Jin Guangyao specifically planned out a scene together. Discussed limits with your brother, discussed the shape of things. Let"s allow things to progress naturally, Jin Guangyao had said, and you agreed.
The selfish part of you longs to set up something difficult for Jin Guangyao to join in on, something you know that would set your brother"s focus solely on you. You push past it. Turning this into a contest will only hurt your brother.
Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a set of gleaming steel clover clamps and pinch them onto your brother"s nipples. They draw a quiet hiss of pain, but nothing else.
"Do you love him?" you ask, for his ears only. You already know the answer.
"I do, Wangji."
You do not care what Jin Guangyao thinks to watch the two of you whispering to one another. You cup your brother"s cheek in your hand, skim your thumb across the bow of his lips.
"Show me. Let me see it tonight." This, you think, is something you should have realized you needed to see before now.
When your brother smiles, it"s a tangible relief. You can feel it radiating off his body. You pull him down into a heated kiss as your fingers find the chain between his nipple clamps and pull. His moan breaks the kiss, but you do not stop pulling at the chain. The clamps tighten, and Xichen holds himself in anticipation.
With a sharp tug, you release the chain, letting it drop back down against this chest. Then, the tips of your fingers rub over the peaks of your brother"s nipples, stroking until you draw a soft sound from his lips.
It isn"t difficult. Your brother submits so easily to your touch, slipping into the depths of his subspace as naturally as breathing. Would it be too easy for Jin Guangyao if you pushed your brother deep, you do not want it to be—
That is not the point of tonight.
Leaning forward, you kiss your brother on the mouth. He opens, lips parted, offering his mouth, his body, giving everything to you.
You take it, even if it is not the point of tonight. You take it because he is yours to take, and you refuse to let that ever change. Your teeth skim over his lower lip until he moans, but you stop before you want to.
There are weights in your pocket, small stainless steel teardrops. They hang prettily from the clover clamps on your brother"s nipples. The room is silent, but for his ragged breathing, and you do not break the quiet as you direct Xichen back to his hands and knees.
He gasps as the weights swing, and you feel your lips twitch in fondness.
You are not in the habit of repeating yourself, but you do now. "Show me, xiongzhang."
Jin Guangyao clears his throat, and you look away from your brother to meet his eyes. You"ve taken one another"s measure many times; nothing"s changed.
"Another set of weights," you say without preamble.
"I agree, one set is basic, and he"s quite advanced at this point, isn"t he? You"ve seen to that."
You acknowledge the praise with a nod as Jin Guangyao walks directly to the small set of drawers where your brother keeps various clips and accessories. He picks two of the heaviest weights.
"Xichen, come here."
Blindfolded, Xichen lifts his head and shifts his body toward the sound of Jin Guangyao"s voice and begins to crawl across the room. He"s not unerring, but it is close, as he comes to a stop just slightly out of line with Jin Guangyao, who makes a soft hm sound in the back of his throat as Xichen lifts off his hands into a formal kneeling posture.
"You did not tell him to kneel," you say, translating that sound, the look on Jin Guangyao"s face.
A wry smile tilts up the corners of Jin Guangyao"s mouth. You do not like it. His hand flashes out, and you are taking a step forward before you can stop yourself, as his palm smacks across your brother"s cheek. Just one step, but Jin Guangyao"s eyes flick to you.
"I did not. I know you favor a different style of correction, Hanguang-jun," Jin Guangyao says with an apologetic smile. "But I find swift action the best."
Ignored and still kneeling upon the floor, your brother is shaking.
"I would not expect you to conform to Lan standards." Xichen flinches; you see him wince.
And so, you make an effort. "Which is to say, you did not train with them, I would not expect you to use them all." The words are bitter on your tongue.
Jin Guangyao cups your brother"s cheek in his hand as he regards you, strokes a finger along the line of his cheekbone. Your brother pushes into the touch.
Your mouth opens and closes without the word one being spoken. The infraction is not yours to punish. Perhaps it is not an infraction at all to Jin Guangyao. He continues to caress your brother"s cheek.
"And how many strokes would you give him for his behavior so far this evening, Lan Wangji?" Jin Guangyao asks.
It galls you to be read so precisely.
"One."
"We could have it both ways." Jin Gaungyao"s words jolt your brother to attention. "If he"s to submit to the both of us, he should do so properly and to both of our expectations."
The tremors that shake your brother grow more visible, yet even without that, you would know how deeply Jin Guangyao"s words land in his heart; you know how eager he is to please, how deep his desire to serve runs.
You know, too, how badly it can go for a submissive to be torn between two sets of standards. To do this means to trust that Jin Guangyao will not push your brother to break. You cannot do that, so instead, you must trust that your brother has chosen a man who will not fail him.
Crossing the distance between you and the two of them, you lay your hand on Xichen"s shoulder.
"One," you tell him.
"Yes, Wangji." His response is slow, his voice thick as honey.
"Will you pull him to his feet, Lan Wangji?" Jin Gaungyao"s eyes are hot on the both of you, and while you do not enjoy taking orders (nor requests) from anyone, you tangle your hands in the mass of your brother"s hair and jerk him upright.
Before he can gain any balance, Jin Guangyao hooks the weights onto the ones already pulling the clover clamps down. As the clamps tighten, weights swaying and clicking together, your brother cries out and arches against you.
You bite his shoulder, and the cry turns to a shout even as he stills—a bruise forms under your teeth and your lips.Together you work him back and forth with just your hands and mouths. Jin Guangyao leaves a mirror image of the bruise on his right shoulder as Xichen floats between the two of you.
It isn"t seamless, the two of you working together, but you learn a great deal as your brother leans toward Jin Guangyao like he is the sun.
Xichen shifts on his feet as you are pressed against his back, redistributing his weight. When the slap comes, you are not prepared for it, but your brother is braced and ready.
"I did not say you could touch me, Xichen."
Pressed as you are, you feel the impact, feel the muscles of his back shift as he lowers his head.
"You did not, A-Yao," your brother whispers.
You did not see the infraction, but still, it would be unfair not to hold your brother to the Lan standards you were just so snide about Jin Guangyao not knowing.
"Two," you speak into his ear.
"Two," Xichen echoes on the out-breath.
It is strange to share with Jin Guangyao—to dislike being touched during a scene when you did not initiate the contact. And it is such a weak point in your brother"s training. His hands seek the heat of skin, the comfort of touch.
Jin Guangyao"s hand is around your brother"s throat.
"Is it more touch you need, A-Huan?"
Loose limbed even as he is near tears, Lan Xichen is flying high or sinking deep in his own mind. Anchored in his body by the hands the two of you lay on his skin.
Anchored by Jin Guangyao.
It is not only Jin Guangyao"s hands anchoring your brother in place. You do not have to like Jin Guangyao to see that he knows how to make your brother fly. You do not have to like him to see how easily your brother submits to his will.
"Are we not paying enough attention to you?" Jin Guangyao"s voice takes on a sharp edge yours would never.
"No, A-Yao, no—"
But Jin Guangyao has turned away from him and plucks a hank of sky blue rope.
"Lan Wangji, I do not like it when his hands wander, do you mind?" He does not offer the rope to you, but you take it from him anyway.
"He has never done well at keeping them to himself." That is all you need to say for Xichen to fold his arms behind his back, in position for your preferred box tie.
Your brother"s breath comes fast as you secure the last of the rope, hand grabbing it and dragging him back before pushing him forward, catching him off balance. It sets off a chain reaction, the weights on his nipple clamps swaying, and then he jerks his arms in the bondage, trying not to stumble, trying to minimize the swing of the weights.
So you do it again, not giving him a chance to rebalance. When you finally look away from your brother"s face, Jin Guangyao has a riding crop and an incongruous piece of plastic pipe in his hand.
It"s a clever combination of sharp and thudding. You take the pipe as you release the ropes around your brother"s arms and then bring it down solidly across his ass. A half beat later, the crop in Jin Guangyao"s hand snaps against your brother"s thigh.
He braces himself, plants his feet, draws in a sharp breath, and tries to hold steady. Does he know by the way the toys break over his skin, who wields what?
Does he care?
The two of you work him over without any rhyme or reason. You do not try to synchronize with Jin Guangyao. Instead, you focus on leaving your mark. The pipe leaves thick stripes of red over your brother"s ass and thighs.
It will bruise him. You do not pull your swings, and, eventually, your brother is unable to hold still. He steps forward toward Jin Guangyao, only for the crop to smack across the nipple clamp.
He screams.
All the air leaves your lungs at the scream you did not force from his mouth. Sheer force of will keeps you from stepping forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. To steady him, to check-in. You know him well enough that you do not need to stop the scene.
But you were not the one to make him scream. Before you can process anything, the crop flashes out again. Xichen shouts.
This time you do not stop yourself as you reach out and grab hold of the ropes wrapped around his arms and shoulders and jerk your brother back against your body. This is not a check-in. This is—
You breathe out, breathe in, and check-in with yourself as you soothe your hands down your brother"s torso, the crop-marked tops of his thighs. And then, wrap a hand around his half-hard cock, pump once, twice. He groans low in his throat, his hips stutter, and then he stills, well trained.
"Wangji."
"Shh." Your hands find the weights, and you flick them until he"s squirming, leaving his cock. He remains silent.
"You two are magnificent together."
You had almost forgotten that Jin Guangyao was in the room, with the heat of your brother"s body against your own, the soft rush of his panting breath, the quiet sounds.
"Thank you, A-Yao." Ever the good submissive, your brother is quick to acknowledge the praise.
You bury your face against Xichen"s neck and bite, sucking another bruise to the surface, grinding your dick against your brother"s ass until he forgets he said anything. When you lift your head, Jin Guangyao has closed the space between himself and the two of you.
There is no attempt to make up for the height difference. No going up on his toes. Jin Guangyao simply takes space from him, for himself.
He sandwiches your brother between the two of you and wraps his hand around his throat once more. Fingers dig into the marks your teeth left, and your brother"s sharp gasp is abruptly cut off. You feel his knees give and catch him.
This is a game you refuse to play, but you do not stop Jin Guangyao from restricting your brother"s airflow.
"I." He cannot get out the words. Jin Guangyao"s hand relaxes. "I. Cannot keep standing." It"s only your arm around his body that is keeping him upright.
You watch as Jin Guangyao removes his hand from your brother"s throat and fists it into the rope wrapped around his chest. You let go of your brother.
He drops to his knees. Over his head, your eyes meet Jin Guangyao’s again. Neither of you looks away.
"You should fuck him while he sucks me." Jin Guangyao"s voice is soft, and you almost have to strain to hear his words. "Remind him who he belongs to."
Somewhere, you knew, you had to have known, that you could not keep Xichen to yourself forever. That the Twin Jades must live their own lives, would have their own loves. Yet the memories you pull to the forefront of your mind are year after year of your brother on his knees before you, the Lan blue collar around his throat.
But it is not just to you that your brother now belongs. You do not like change. And yet—
Wei Ying is in your thoughts, his laughter bright, his eyes smiling. He is offering you something new, and you want it. You want to take it with both hands and cling. You cannot have both.
Together you both get your brother to his feet, guide him over his favorite spanking bench. He"s a boneless puddle of a person as the two of you lay him down. Xichen whines as the nipple clamps and weights press into the bench, but he"s too far gone to try and hold his chest up to stop the pain. Not so far gone that he doesn"t shift his legs open as wide as possible on the bench.
Jin Guangayo passes you a bottle of lube, and your fingers find the rim of your brother"s ass. You open him roughly. Blunt fingers sinking into the tight heat of his body, wrenching cries from his lips as you fuck your fingers into him.
You let the room narrow to the two of you, unconcerned with what Jin Guangyao is doing—it is not relevant. Not when your brother"s body is hot around your fingers. Not when you can press against the flushed skin of his ass and thighs and make him moan.
It"s only when the moans become choked that you look up to see Jin Guangyao"s fingers in your brother"s mouth. You, begrudgingly, appreciate his patience but do not linger watching. More interesting, no matter how often you do it, is the stretch of your brother"s hole.
More lube. More lube, another finger. You take your time, draw this out until your brother is whining.
"Greedy, A-Huan," Jin Guangyao says, and you look up in time to see him tap Xichen"s chin as he tsks. "You don"t get to decide when you get a cock do you?"
His only answer is a soft cry, body arching back against your touch, as you find his prostate. You contemplate making your brother orgasm before you fuck him, to drive him into an overstimulated mess, but you restrain yourself.
Aftercare is already going to be difficult. You want your brother to be on more even ground than that when this is over.
So, you ease your fingers from his body. It is quick work to free your cock from your slacks, quicker yet to rub it over the cleft of his ass. Your brother arches back and presents himself.
"So you"re always this easy," Jin Guangyao says as his hands thread through your brother"s hair.
You fuck into him first, not warning either your brother or Jin Guangyao, and set a punishing pace. Your fingers dig into his hips, bruising (claiming), as your hips snap flush to his ass. Any sounds your brother would make are choked off by Jin Guangyao"s cock in his mouth—you close your eyes.
There is nothing you need to see. You know the language of your brother"s body, sounds muffled on a dick or not. A high, almost keening sound, when he is in deep, and everything is just a little too bright and a little too intense. He will be crying. You do not have to look to know that he is crying; your brother dissolves into such a beautiful mess when in this place.
Eventually, you do realize Jin Guangyao has started to fuck his mouth in earnest. Your brother gags then chokes. He is washed in sensation and cannot remember his training. Cannot remember how not to gag.
You fuck him harder. You score your nails up his thighs and down his back.
Jin Guangyao"s breath is ragged, but he is mostly silent. So quiet you do not notice that he"s come over your brother"s face. You do not see until he pushes your brother up, and it changes the angle.
It"s good. It"s good for you, and from the sound your brother makes—it"s just as good for him.
Jin Guangyao takes your brother"s cock in his hand, strokes him. Then, takes the chain of his nipple clamps. When he realizes he has your attention, Jin Guangyao raises a silent eyebrow and flicks his eyes to the chain, mimes pulling at it.
You nod. You are close and—
"Please, oh, oh fuck, oh please." Your brother is, too.
On the edge of your brother"s orgasm, Jin Guangyao rips the nipple clamps off his body. With Xichen"s scream piercing the air, ringing in your ears, you come buried deep in his ass. His own orgasm, presumably, ruined.
Hanging suspended in the aftermath, the three of you are still. Your hands gentle on your brother"s hips; you stroke his heaving sides until his breath steadies. Jin Guangyao strokes your brother"s hair and murmurs something to him you do not catch.
The moment breaks.
Between the two of you, one of you is always touching him as you clean up. As you wipe the come from his face, his thighs. The rope comes off, the blindfold as well.
"Two strokes," you remind him before he drifts too deeply in the afterglow.
His eyes are wet with tears from being treated so roughly, and he is such a perfect picture of submissive agony you would throw him down and have him again.
You do not. You help him into the position for punishment because his body is still shaking. Ever obedient, he bears the two strokes from the heavy wooden cane with as much grace as his well-used body can offer.
Jin Guangyao watches, silent from the side, not interfering.
"Good, very well done, xiongzhang." You wrap an arm around your brother"s waist and help right him. He leans heavily into you as you discard the cane to the side.
Later, it will be your brother"s task to come and clean up the room, but you and Jin Guangyao help get him to the bathroom to finish cleaning up and then to his large bed.
You make Jin Guangyao take Xichen"s side of the bed as you bundle him between the two of you, careful not to touch one another. In your brother"s ear, you whisper your own praises and ignore how Jin Guangyao watches. Just as you ignore the heated kiss Jin Guangyao leaves in the wake of your words.
Jin Guangyao rests his head on your brother"s chest, and Xichen curls his fingers into Jin Guangyao"s hair, cups the back of his head. Reflexive in his afterglow.
You do not have to like him. You do not have to like their relationship.
You do, however, trust your brother. If you are to be two halves of a whole that you must trust your brother.
Just as he is attempting to trust your choice to leave the Cloud Recesses. Your choice to be with Wei Ying.
Your fingers ghost over your brother"s naked throat as Jin Guangyao tips his head up and watches through half-lidded eyes.
"Have you picked it out?" you ask him.
"The design, yes." He does not ask what it is, of course.
"Mh." But that is not a real response, and you know it.
Jin Guangyao"s lips curl into a smile, his eyes soften and crinkle around the edges.
You do not have to trust Jin Guangyao, you do not have to like him, but you love Lan Xichen. You do not need a strip of blue leather for the claim you will have on him, will always have on him, regardless of your relationships or his.
"He will be beautiful in whatever you have selected," you say to Jin Guangyao, and for a moment, enjoy the flash of surprise across his face.
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