Lianxiu paused, their bare lengths pressing hot and slick against each other, the air between them thick with the scent of arousal—musky, intimate, laced with jasmine. He reached for the small vial of oil kept by the bedside—a simple herbal blend for healing salves, now repurposed with trembling reverence—and poured a generous amount into his palm, warming it between his hands before slicking his fingers slowly, the glide making him bite back a groan, his cheeks burning as Xiuyuan's gaze flickered down, wide-eyed and shy, before darting away like a startled deer. "Shixiong," Lianxiu said, voice husky but gentle, "look at me? I need to see you—to know you're with me." Xiuyuan's eyes met his, dark and stormy with nerves, a fresh blush flooding his face to the tips of his ears, but he nodded, lips parting on a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the sheets as if to anchor himself against the unknown.
Lianxiu's oiled fingers trailed lower then, ghosting over the sensitive skin of Xiuyuan's inner thigh, tracing lazy circles that made Xiuyuan's legs twitch and part wider on instinct, even as a whimper of pure embarrassment escaped him—high and muffled, his face turning into the pillow, cheeks aflame. "Lianxiu... that's... I feel so..." Xiuyuan trailed off, voice a mortified whisper, his brows furrowing in that endearing crinkle of shy distress, lashes fluttering shut as if to block out the vulnerability.
Lianxiu's heart fluttered in response, butterflies rioting in his chest at the sight—this unguarded side of his Shixiong, so achingly human and trusting. "So what, love?" he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to Xiuyuan's knee, then the quivering muscle of his thigh, voice threaded with his own shy awe. "Tell me. I want to know every thought—every feeling. You're safe with me."
"Exposed," Xiuyuan admitted on a breath, peeking one eye open, his gaze meeting Lianxiu's for a heartbeat before skittering away again, the confession drawing another wave of crimson across his chest. But he didn't close his legs; instead, his hips shifted minutely, a silent invitation laced with nerves. Lianxiu took it as the gift it was, his first finger circling the tight ring of muscle with feather-light pressure—teasing, not pushing, feeling it flutter under his touch like a living thing. Xiuyuan's breath hitched sharply, a soft "Ah—" escaping before he bit it off, his free hand flying up to cover his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as his body tensed, thighs trembling. Lianxiu watched every flicker: the way Xiuyuan's lips pressed white-knuckled against his palm, muffling the next whine; the subtle arch of his back, instinctive and unpracticed; the rapid flutter of his pulse at his throat, visible like a trapped bird.
"Easy," Lianxiu soothed, his voice a low, steady anchor, though his own heart raced with shy reverence—I'm the one touching him here, seeing him like this. He pressed a kiss to Xiuyuan's hipbone, tongue dipping into the hollow there to distract and soothe, before easing the tip of his finger inside—slow, so slow, the heat enveloping him like molten silk, tight and unyielding at first. Xiuyuan's eyes flew open, wide and glassy, a broken gasp tearing from his throat as his walls clenched instinctively, the stretch pulling a whimper that dissolved into a sob-like exhale. "Too—wait, it's strange... Lianxiu, I—" His words fractured, face burying deeper into the pillow, shoulders hunching in embarrassment, but his hips rocked forward just a fraction, chasing the fullness despite himself.
"You're doing so well," Lianxiu praised, stilling completely to let Xiuyuan adjust, his free hand stroking up and down Xiuyuan's thigh in long, calming sweeps, thumb pressing into the tense muscle until it softened under his touch. He watched, mesmerized, as the shyness played across Xiuyuan's features: brows knit tight, then easing into a furrow of tentative pleasure; lips parted on shallow pants, a bitten lower one blooming red from the pressure; cheeks so flushed they rivaled the lamplight's glow, a sheen of sweat gathering at his temples. "Look at you—opening for me like this. Gods, Shixiong, your face... it's everything." The words spilled out husky, laced with Lianxiu's own nervousness—a shy crack in his voice as arousal throbbed heavy between his legs, but he ignored it, focused solely on Xiuyuan's unraveling.
When the tension ebbed—Xiuyuan's body relaxing into the intrusion with a shuddering sigh, his hand dropping from his mouth to clutch Lianxiu's forearm instead—Lianxiu began to move: shallow thrusts, curling gently to explore, brushing that hidden spot inside on the third pass. Xiuyuan's reaction was immediate and devastating—a full-body jolt, head tipping back with a keening whine that echoed off the walls, raw and unfiltered, his eyes squeezing shut as tears pricked at the corners. "There—oh, what was—" He cut off with a mortified yelp, face flaming anew as he realized the sound he'd made, one hand scrabbling to cover his eyes, fingers trembling. "Don't... don't watch me like that. It's embarrassing... I sound like—"
"Like you're feeling everything," Lianxiu finished softly, awe threading his tone, his finger stilling to press and hold against that spot, drawing out another muffled cry that Xiuyuan tried to swallow, his thighs quivering around Lianxiu's hand. Lianxiu's heart swelled, butterflies erupting in a storm at the trust in that vulnerability—the way Xiuyuan peeked through his fingers, gaze shy and seeking reassurance, brows furrowed in a mix of pleasure and self-consciousness. "And I love it. Every sound, every blush—it's you, Shixiong. Let me hear more. Please." He added a second finger then, scissoring with exquisite care, the stretch pulling a deeper moan from Xiuyuan's chest—long and broken, his hips canting up shyly now, chasing the rhythm even as he whimpered in protest, face half-hidden, lashes damp with overwhelmed tears.
The preparation unfolded like a ritual: Lianxiu's fingers thrusting in languid glides, twisting to graze that inner bundle of nerves with each curl, oil-slick sounds filling the room—wet, intimate, underscoring Xiuyuan's escalating symphony of shy noises. Whimpers built to whines, each one punched out on the in-stroke, Xiuyuan's free hand tangling in the sheets, knuckles white; gasps that bordered on sobs when Lianxiu's thumb circled his entrance alongside the thrusts, adding pressure that made his toes curl and his breath stutter. Lianxiu watched it all, his own shyness melting into devoted hunger—the flush on his cheeks matching Xiuyuan's, heart pounding as he noted the subtle shifts: the way Xiuyuan's lips formed silent ahs, parting wet and swollen; the crinkle of his nose in embarrassed ecstasy, brows drawing together before smoothing in surrender; the flutter of his abdominal muscles, tensing then releasing with each probe, his length leaking steadily onto his stomach, untouched and begging.
The brazier's flames had settled into a gentle rhythm, casting flickering shadows across the room like whispers of forgotten secrets. The air hung heavy with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine, mingled now with the intimate musk of their shared breaths—ragged, anticipatory, laced with the salt of nervous sweat.
Lianxiu's heart thundered—a relentless drumbeat that echoed in his ears, drowning the distant wind's sigh beyond the paper screens. He was no stranger to desire, but this... this was devotion made flesh, a love so vast it made his hands shake as he reached for the vial of oil once more.
The herbal blend gleamed amber in the low light, cool against his palm as he poured a fresh measure, warming it with slow, deliberate rubs between his fingers. His eyes never left Xiuyuan's face, tracing the shy furrow between his brows, the way his lower lip caught between his teeth—a habit born of uncertainty, now edged with want. "Shixiong," Lianxiu murmured, voice low and roughened by the weight of it all, "you're sure? We can wait... hold each other until dawn." But even as he spoke, his free hand settled on Xiuyuan's hip—fingers splaying wide over the sharp jut of bone, thumb pressing into the soft hollow just above, grounding them both. The skin there was fever-warm, quivering faintly under his touch, and Lianxiu felt the answering tremor in his own chest, butterflies rioting wild and insistent.
Xiuyuan's breath hitched, a soft, fractured sound that pulled at Lianxiu like gravity. His eyes flickered down to where Lianxiu's hand rested, then up again, lashes fluttering in that endearing, shy veil. A fresh blush bloomed across his cheeks, creeping down his throat like spilled wine, staining the pale peaks of his nipples a dusky rose—they had hardened earlier under Lianxiu's kisses, tight and sensitive, but now they pebbled further, almost painfully so, as anticipation coiled low in his belly. "I... want this," Xiuyuan whispered, voice cracking on the edges,
"With you. Just... slow. Please." The plea was raw, vulnerable, and it undid Lianxiu utterly—his Shixiong, always so composed in the sect's halls, now laid bare in body and soul, trusting him with this trembling surrender.
Lianxiu nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat, his thumb stroking a slow, soothing arc over Xiuyuan's hipbone—a promise etched in touch. He slicked himself then, the oil gliding cool and viscous over his length, drawing a hiss from between his teeth at the contrast to his heated skin. The sensation was almost too much, his arousal throbbing heavy and insistent, but he reined it in, focusing on Xiuyuan: the subtle shift of his thighs, parting wider with a shy rustle against the mat; the way his abdomen tensed, muscles fluttering like wings beneath the surface; the rapid flutter of his pulse at his throat, visible and erratic.
"Breathe with me," Lianxiu coaxed, leaning forward until their foreheads touched, noses brushing in an intimate nudge, breaths mingling hot and uneven. His hand on Xiuyuan's hip tightened just a fraction—not gripping, but cradling, fingers digging into the yielding flesh with gentle insistence as he aligned himself.
The blunt head of his cock nudged against Xiuyuan's entrance, slick and prepared from earlier ministrations, but still so impossibly tight—a velvet barrier that fluttered under the pressure, eliciting a shared gasp that hung in the air like incense smoke.
Xiuyuan's eyes squeezed shut, a whimper escaping unbidden—high and breathy, laced with nerves—as the first press began. His body resisted instinctively, muscles clenching in a reflexive vise, and Lianxiu stilled immediately, heart slamming against his ribs.
He waited, pulse thundering in his ears, until Xiuyuan's exhale came—shuddering, deliberate—and with it, the subtle relaxation, the ring of muscle yielding in a slow, exquisite bloom. Lianxiu pushed forward then, inch by torturous inch, the breach a searing slide of heat and friction that tore a low groan from his throat, muffled against Xiuyuan's hair. The oil eased the way, but the drag was molten—tight walls parting like silk rent asunder, enveloping him in pulses of velvet fire that made stars burst behind his eyelids.
As the first inch breached, Xiuyuan's body arched—a full, involuntary bow that pressed his chest closer to Lianxiu's, his aroused nipples grazing the coarse hair of the younger man's torso in a spark of sensation that ripped a moan from his lips: deep and fractured, trailing off into a whine as his head tipped back against the pillow. The sound was devastating—raw, unfiltered, a confession in itself—and Lianxiu's hand on his hip pulled instinctively, drawing Xiuyuan closer with a firm, loving tug that seated another fraction deeper. The movement grounded them, hips canting in tandem, but it amplified everything: the stretch blooming fuller inside Xiuyuan, a burning ache that blurred into pleasure; the way his inner walls clenched and released in shy flutters, massaging Lianxiu's length like a secret heartbeat. Xiuyuan's nipples, already taut and flushed, hardened further under the friction—darkened to a deep, aching pink, straining as if begging for touch, every nerve alight from the dual assault of fullness and exposure.