Xingyu’s hand caught the hand Weiran was abusing. He moved it gently from the trap of Weiran’s teeth to the top of Xingyu’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair.

It was everything Weiran had imagined and more. He’d had this image in his head—Xingyu with his mouth around him, looking up at him through his eyelashes, Weiran holding that mouth in place, Weiran lifting his hips to thrust into Xingyu’s throat—but one important detail was different.

There was no way Weiran was going to be able to move anything with the way Xingyu’s mouth was working around him, the way his fingers teased at his balls. It was all he could do to stay conscious and keep himself propped upward.

It wasn’t that he had never had a blowjob before. Hell, he’d gotten several. But to combine the imagery of Xingyu that he’d been holding in his head for years with the technique that he was experiencing now—god, the technique alone was enough to make him lose all control.

“You gotta—you gotta stop or I’m gonna—” Weiran pulled on Xingyu’s hair—yanked on it.

Xingyu slid off of him with an obscene pop. He grinned at Weiran as he spit the pre-cum into his palm. “You know you speak English when you’re about to come?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“It’s okay. It’s cute.”

Cute? Weiran’s face felt hot. Xingyu thought he was cute. Xingyu thought that he was cute.

“Hold on.” Xingyu shimmied out of his own pants and dropped them onto the ground as he crawled onto Weiran’s lap. “Just hold still,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to Weiran’s temple. His lips felt searingly hot.

“B-but you need to—”

“It’s fine. I already prepared myself.” He took Weiran into his hand again. “Are you ready?”

Weiran’s breath caught.

“Don’t be nervous. I do this all the—”

Weiran pushed his hips upward and Xingyu’s words ended in a sharp gasp.

“Oh, f—”

He gripped Xingyu’s thighs and rocked into him, burying his nose in the crook of his neck.

“Yes, just like that. You’re doing so—ngh—you’re doing so good.”

Xingyu felt impossible tight and hot around him, and he was moving relentlessly, pushing against Weiran and swiveling his hips as his fingers dug bruises into Weiran’s back. “I—Xingyu—I can’t—”

“Just a little longer,” Xingyu told him, almost crooning. “Just a—ha—minute—”

Stars burst behind Weiran’s eyes. He could distantly hear Xingyu talking him through it, comforting him as the orgasm tore him apart from the inside, and then it got more intense and he realized Xingyu was coming too—was spasming around him.

When he came to, he was on his back with Xiaokai on top of him. Both of them were panting.