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Sometimes Hua Cheng got like this. Something soft and worshipful taking over even more than usual, turning every point of contact— every action— into devotion of the intimate manner.
Hua Cheng could worship Xie Lian’s back like it was a terrain with secrets yet untold. Could worship his neck like the most devout of believers. Could massage his feet and press kisses where the shackle had once laid as though there were no task more holy. Every centimeter of skin was worthy of worship and Hua Cheng was nothing if not thorough in his devotions.
Such worship could turn from sensual to sexual too, it was not uncommon for his husband to worship his cock with enough reverence to surpass simply the touch of a lover. It was not uncommon for passion and piety to be one and the same within their bed, even if it was perhaps unorthodox.
But this… there was something so maddeningly gentle and teasing and terribly genuine about the way he worshipped Xie Lian’s thighs tonight. Perhaps the fact that such a thing was not new to them only made it more tender.
Nudity did not always mean sex between them. So when Hua Cheng had seen the weariness in his god’s shoulders and asked in such low tones if he could touch him, Xie Lian had not even blinked as he let himself be undressed.
It had embarrassed him once, at the beginning of their time as a couple, to be naked in front of Hua Cheng. It was a strange thing, relearning nervousness about his body that hadn’t been present for centuries, and one that was heightened when Hua Cheng remained dressed like this.
But he’d long gotten over such hang ups again. He knew if he asked it, Hua Cheng would strip to put them on even ground, but there was no need when his own nudity allowed Hua Cheng access to the places he’d chosen to worship tonight. Let his husband be dressed in the whites of his inner robes, the soft brush of their cloth gentle against both their skin. There was no reason to take that from him when he looked so handsome in his various clothes.
Hua Cheng didn’t choose Xie Lian’s thighs to worship so innocently like this often. Xie Lian suspected it may have been because the slow, measured strokes against the muscles of his thighs, so close to his crotch, could be seen as inviting something more.
Xie Lian knew his husband though. He knew his husband could see by the sleep in his eyes he wasn’t looking for such an activity tonight and he knew by the look on Hua Cheng’s face he was very sincere in only wanting this chaste intimacy.
Closing his eyes, Xie Lian let his attention follow the reverent dance of his husband’s finger until it was replaced with his mouth, just as light. Just as gentle. Chaste kisses like the soft brush of butterfly wings.
“San Lang can leave marks,” Xie Lian’s hand reached down blindly to rest on Hua Cheng’s head. It did not move or guide him. Just rested, a firm presence that grounded them both and kept Xie Lian fully aware of his movements.
Logically such permission to mark shouldn’t have been needed. Hua Cheng knew well that Xie Lian adored the marks he left. They both did. But Xie Lian knew his husband always preferred to be told or asked for such things and when he was being worshipped like this, there was no shame at all in such instruction. Simply a natural guidance like he once gave telling followers not to kneel to him.
A good god gave clear instructions for worship. Only then could he be worshipped most effectively.
And Hua Cheng was very effective in his worship, hot, wet mouth closing over the sensitive flesh of Xie Lian’s inner thighs to suck his offerings into his god’s skin.
He worked his way across both legs, taking great care to make sure no part of Xie Lian felt neglect.
If Xie Lian had opened his eyes, he knew what he’d see. It was because of this that he knew to keep his eyes closed. It was at times entirely too endearing to see the way his husband’s face went lax with bliss at the opportunity to worship in the way only he was allowed. Something so raw and open about his expression during nights like this, as though Hua Cheng had dropped all pretenses and lay exposed before him, the devotion that sustained his very afterlife laid bare. It was intense and soft and precious like nothing else, and so he had to take great care not to become overwhelmed by the sheer gratitude and pride it invoked in him. By the way it pulled tears from somewhere deep within him some nights. Hua Cheng only wanted to please him. Took so much joy in the chance to do so. And Xie Lian loved him the way he’d never had the opportunity to love anything else.
It was of course inevitable in his position, settled so sweetly between Xie Lian’s legs, that he would softly brush against something more sensitive. That even these adoring offerings would stir something else in Xie Lian’s gut. Still, it was easy by now to ignore the hardening of his cock. He’d ignored such things for centuries after all, and dealing with it would mean pausing the worship he was basking in.
It was with much practice that Xie Lian centered his thoughts away from the heat of desire and down to the sensations of familiar lips greedily closing around small sections on the thighs. Down to the sensation of gentle teeth nipping just to hear the way Xie Lian hummed his approval. Down to the sensation of a curious tongue tracing across blooming bruises that overlapped with fading marks from previous nights.
Hua Cheng worshipped with slender, strong fingers massaging up and down. He worshipped with the yearning caress of his nose gliding across Xie Lian’s thighs like he couldn’t help but to nuzzle them. He worshipped and loved and they perhaps should’ve been different things but the words overlapped in meaning when it came to them until they could’ve been synonyms.
And Xie Lian couldn’t help it, he had to look. Had to open his eyes to see the way his husband pillowed his cheek against the firm muscle of Xie Lian’s thigh and looked up at him as if the very act of meeting Xie Lian’s eyes was an honor unlike any other. As if they did not stare into each other’s eyes every day. As if they did not wake up to kisses and playful bullying.
Or perhaps it was because of those things that he looked at Xie Lian like this now, with everything most important to him laid out in the open and all the obsession he had once feared he’d be rejected for so completely on display.
He was perfect. Xie Lian could’ve tried and tried and never thought of a companion half as perfect as his San Lang.
Letting his hand slowly move from its place on the top of his husband’s head, Xie Lian cupped his face, smiling at the way Hua Cheng leaned into the touch like a well loved cat.
Time was always syrup slow when Hua Cheng worshipped him like this. It was hard to say if he’d only been at it for minutes or already sunk into hours, but the low burning of their candles let him know it had probably been more like hours.
“Come up here.” Xie Lian called softly; it could have been a whisper on his unused voice.
He only needed the gentlest of instruction with his San Lang though. His most devoted believer would of course follow any request, especially when they were made like this; quiet and loving.
So Hua Cheng rose, sweet and nearly liquid in his arms as he held Xie Lian the way only he could.
“Your highness doesn’t want help with that?” He asked, his own thigh nudging carefully against Xie Lian’s half hard cock.
It felt nice. But the pliant way his husband was vulnerable with adoration in his arms felt nicer.
“Leave it. San Lang did good.”
Hua Cheng’s smile was a thing of the heavens. “I only give what your highness deserves.”
Xie Lian wouldn’t argue with him about that. Not now. Instead he tipped his chin up and closed his eyes and waited for his husband to kiss him.
He was never left waiting long. Not anymore.