Wei Qiwan really does back off.
Even if at his core he’s still a neurotically protective yet bitingly dismissive older brother, he restrains himself from calling Yue Fei up for investigative reports. Yue Fei is grateful– it’s much easier to coax Wei Qing and build back up his confidence when Wei Qiwan isn’t constantly picking at the scab over their relationship.
If Wei Qiwan wants to privately spy, that’s his own business.
It’s a good leash, actually; a hovering reminder to keep control of himself, to not indulge in places they shouldn’t, to not risk Wei Qing’s reputation or relationship with that brother of his. Yue Fei may not believe in an omniscient God but he believes in Wei Qiwan’s ability to peep at them.
Like many raised without it, Yue Fei has always craved structure.
He finds comfort in clear lines of conduct and peace within a well-ordered life. He likes to know where he stands, what he owes and is owed in return. And right now, he owes Wei Qing the best relationship he can offer; and Wei Qiwan owes them the space to explore. Wei Qing also owes him his best, but Yue Fei has a mental block about admitting this. Blame their long and entangled history or his own permissiveness.
But even if Yue Fei won’t demand anything, Wei Qing pushes himself.
He’s very serious when he sets his mind to it, and his current goal is to be the 360-degree all-inclusive perfect boyfriend! After all, there’s something so disarming about a Yue Fei that’s never seriously dated, and Wei Qing wants to show him all the wonders of it, as long as he has the privilege. Wei Qing wants to pamper him.
A week in, he even learns how to make breakfast!
Okay, so it’s just eggs, melon, and toast, and it takes him seven eggs to make four perfect ones (and almost half a loaf of bread for the same, despite their fancy toaster). But he does it! Wei Qing even watches youtube tutorials on how to cut the melon into cute shapes. That at least, he masters with impressive quickness. If this whole second-generation thing doesn’t work out, he has the face and knife skills to be a successful fruit-cutting youtuber. That’s a thing, right?
Bright-eyed, he hovers, forgetting to eat his own breakfast as he watches Yue Fei.
“How is it?”
“Delicious.”
“Are you sure the poppy seeds aren’t too much?”
“Good. They add texture.”
“And the eggs, do you think it was a mistake to add scallion?”
“Wei Qing,” Yue Fei’s tone is indulgent, as he presses a slightly eggy kiss against Wei Qing’s nervous lips, “It’s all delicious. Relax, eat your share before it gets cold.”
He does as he’s told.
Vibrating with excitement at the softness in Yue Fei’s eyes as he eats his offerings, Wei Qing begs to borrow the kitchen (his kitchen, not that he remembers) at least once a week, until he’s good enough to fully split the duties. Like a top-quality boyfriend, instead of someone casually picked up.
Not that Yue Fei does anything casually, as far as Wei Qing can tell. But self-esteem isn’t a logical thing, and for all his excitement, Wei Qing is still eager to prove himself, like an honor roll kid waiting on college acceptance letters and worrying his community service and extracurriculars aren’t brilliant enough.
“I look forward to seeing what other talents Wei Qing discovers.”
“I won’t let you down!”
You can’t. As long as you’re paying attention to me, I’m sure I’ll never be even the slightest bit disappointed in you. But have fun; I’ll happily be your test subject for anything you want to try in the kitchen or the bed-
Yue Fei chokes on his toast, waving away Wei Qing’s concern and sipping grapefruit juice with no small amount of panic. His normally well-ordered brain is starting to rebel, slipping in all sorts of little daydreams that turn his ears red and make his throat tighten with phantom thirst. Boundaries, pacing–
Breakfast is very good.
Yue Fei happily gives in, as Wei Qing presses him against the cooled stovetop and compares the taste of their identical meals, kissing against him in exploration and more than a little idolatry. They kiss, longer and deeper than they normally manage while still upright. There are more changes too– when both men react, Yue Fei first, and Wei Qing quickly following after, Yue Fei doesn’t step away and organize himself. He just groans and pulls on Wei Qing’s hips, encouraging the younger man to pin him more thoroughly against the brushed steel of their dishwasher. He tilts his head and lengthens the kiss, spine-tingling at the feeling of Wei Qing against him, just four layers separating them.
Ah, Master Wei is really, truly talented in this.
Only when he faces the very real possibility of their first time being atop dirty pots and pans does Yue Fei catch the tail of his rationality. Not before a certain palm (out of his control, of course) traces awfully close to where Wei Qing and he are still pinioned together.
“Wei Qing~” Yue Fei’s quite sure his voice has never been so breathless.
Wei Qing tilts his head back, eyes glazed with the pleasure of a conqueror, and licks a long strip against Yue Fei’s heated neck. Finds that old confidence of his, which had been gone so long that he almost thought it had become a vestigial emotion.
“Glad you liked breakfast, baby.”
Oop. That word. A new one.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Pa vbfr atlcur ab Tef Mfl. Tef Mfl qeiir tlw lcab jcbatfg xlrr, mjamtlcu atja mtemxif lc tlr atgbja jcv aegclcu la lcab jc fdejiis afjrlcu qegg. Djys. Lf’r Qfl Hlcu’r yjys. Tef Mfl’r vfiluta lr j vjgxfg, delfafg atlcu, yea rtlcfr jr yglutais jr Qfl Hlcu’r, jwlvra atf oibarjw bo atflg wbgclcu.
Yue Fei has never found the mess so charming.
—
“Ha! So you actually asked someone out? Ah, tell the truth, is this a stroke? The last of my regrets, untangling themselves so I can head towards the Yellow Spring in peace, where a goddess waits for me on shimmering grass-” Yue Fei tunes out the man, as is his custom. It’s a key component of their continued closeness. After all, Lu-laoshi would probably not be interested in hearing his perspective, as someone who actually remembers Diyu and all its mystical emptiness.
Probably, he’d only be interested in sending him to a nice in-patient program. Yue Fei takes a break from brushing his teeth to cut in.
“Technically, he asked me out.” There’s a sliver of pride in his tone.
“Pei!” Lu-laoshi exaggeratedly spits through the phone like a phlegmy bullfrog. “Asked out! Asked out! Brave! My boy, you must hold on to him, or you’ll become a wizard soon enough.”
“…I don’t understand.” What does being single have to do with wizards?
“You know? Like on the internet-?”
“You get the internet up there?”
“You little-! It’s the north, not the eighties!” Lu-laoshi’s indignation leads to another round of coughing. “Ah, nevermind. Not like you understand youth culture, not like a professional like me.”
Yue Fei raises an eyebrow, but luckily, Lu-laoshi (for all his ‘hipness’) has no idea how to make FaceTime work, so his little bit of disrespect goes unnoticed. Then again, Lu-laoshi might be right; even if he’s a gout-ridden old hermit now, the old coot did spend decades working with orphaned or otherwise abandoned youth. He had the resume to back up his claims.
In comparison, even as a teen himself, Yue Fei had avoided his peers and focused on-
Right, focus! None of this is the point.
“-How do I know?” Yue Fei asks, once more a kid sitting in that creaky molded plastic chair, waiting for Lu-laoshi to hurry up and deprogram him.
“Eh? Know what? The wizard thing? Just go online, I’ll send you a link to some sites that are very easy to navigate.”
“…No. I don’t-” Yue Fei sighs and rinses his toothbrush. “Don’t care about that. I mean, how do I know what I should do? And when?” He hides his eyes, even though Lu-laoshi can’t see them. Continues past his discomfort, because who else can he ask about this? “Wei Qing- he hasn’t been in enough real relationships for me to use as a template, and if I go off his other partners, I should already have spent… dozens of times with him.”
“You’re asking me how to know when to give up on your chastity? Really? Well, I suppose-”
“…Not a virgin.” Yue Fei’s voice is a little brittle, as he neatly refolds his hand towels and puts his small private bathroom back in order, exerting perfect control over this little corner of his life.
“Ah, I know. Sorry Yue’er. Just carried away.” There’s a shuffling across the line, as Lu-laoshi shifts into a more professional state of mind. “Well, even if you had those experiences, they weren’t something the current you would choose, right? So in a way, it is like the first time. It’s okay to be nervous and take it slowly– you’re both men but you should still be safe, and take care of both your needs.”
“I-”
“Hey, this spiel is time-honored! Don’t interject! As I was saying… hmm, needs… oh, right. This kind of thing, especially for someone that hasn’t always been in control of their encounters, shouldn’t be rushed, but you also don’t need to pathologize yourself. Or him! If it feels good, it feels good, but things can also feel good and stop partway, and that’s still a fine thing. Just because you take a menu doesn’t mean you’re required to eat everything on it, all at once.”
“…How did anyone survive this talk?” Yue Fei’s ears are dripping blood from embarrassment. And he is an actual adult, and doesn’t even have to sit in the same room while hearing it! How had those surly teenagers from their group home not imploded with the awkwardness?
“By knowing that I’m right. Anyway, who are you going to trust? Me, or the internet that you apparently can’t even find the memes of?! You know what they say– ‘if you’re not old enough to speak about it, you’re not old enough to do it.’”
There’s nothing quite like having your sexual and technological competency disdained by an octagenarian. Especially when the criticism isn’t off-base, even if he’s pretty sure that man is pronouncing ‘meme’ wrong. Yue Fei settles down and listens properly.
“This is the boy you’ve been with for eight years. You know him, he knows you. Don’t treat it like some new thing. It’s a deepening of your existing bonds, not like he turned into a completely different person. Go slow, communicate, use lubrication if anyone’s getting inside of anyone else.”
“Lu-laoshi!”
“What? You think it’s embarrassing now, imagine having to explain in an urgent care room.” Lu-laoshi sounds like he speaks from experience. Which… yeah, probably. Yue Fei can clearly picture it. Lotta pent-up kids in that home. “And Yue’er?”
“Yes?”
“Being together as adults is different than as children. You can control this, just like he can. You can both communicate. Don’t be afraid to go further or to pull back. As long as you check in with yourself, you’ll find the timing that you’re looking for.”
“…Thanks.” Like always, Yue Fei ends the call without any sort of resolution, just another’s words rattling around in his brain. But sometimes, that’s what he needs. Something to help him find the edges of the endless chasm that can silently spread through him when he’s faced with things he wants but fears, needs but doesn’t know how to ask for.
Step by step. Lu-laoshi just says to go step by step.
He can do that, right? Who can’t?
—
“Ah, what about this one?”
Wei Qing and Yue Fei are spending their Monday off in a luxurious furniture store, hunting for a new couch, courtesy of Wei Qing’s continuing love affair with video games, and his back’s continuing enmity with the gorgeous but lumbarically criminal current seating.
Although neither is gauche enough to mention it, both have weird bruises and aches from aborted heavy kissing sessions on their existing couch. Presumably, if they ever get around to fucking on it, they’ll both end up needing Tiger Balm and knee braces from the severe angles and insufficient padding. They might both be in their twenties, but on that designer boondoggle, they feel like they’re twice that. Not exactly sexy.
So through the deserted showroom they go, plopping onto large sectionals with price tags that qualify them as midsize cars rather than living room furniture. Anything that is stiff or unforgiving is thrown out of consideration, no matter the sleekness of the lines or pedigree of the designer.
Finally, halfway through the place, Wei Qing finds the full package: something masculine and in their umber and smoke color scheme, but with a seat deep enough to accommodate long male legs and enough cushion that Wei Qing can imagine all sorts of inappropriate things. Also, should be comfortable for gaming, or whatever, but that’s a secondary concern once he gets the mental image of being wonderfully tossed around by Yue Fei.
Ah, if only the private showroom was truly private, he could try it out now and get a guarantee. But the sales manager is just too conscientious, so he has to keep his hands and mournful eyes to himself, as he pays for the thing, arranges delivery, and misses his opportunity.
This is why he prefers online shopping.
—
Wei Qing thinks he might be cheating a little, with his next date. But it’s not his fault that Netflix and Chill is such a cultural staple! And even if he and Yue Fei live together already, he can still set it up and make it a little bit special.
Saturday night while Yue Fei is out, handling something to do with the car registration or the project or who knows what, Wei Qing lights candles and very artistically arranges throw pillows and soft blankets on their brand-new couch. He’d debated the bed, but that was a little much when they hadn’t even properly seen certain parts of one another yet, yeah?
So he puts cheap popcorn in expensive glass bowls, and carefully ices water and soda in crystal glasses that cost more than a palette of the stuff. Does his best to arrange everything into something romantic but low pressure, up to and including the inoffensive movie that he has ready to play, some science fiction thriller that promises lots of pretty pictures and a simple plot.
Simple enough that you could make out through most of it and not feel that you’d missed out. Not that Wei Qing is going to pounce the man the minute he returns, but he’s trying to be thoughtful here. Craft the perfect experience. Be good.
Naturally, this falls apart as soon as he hears the elevator slide open and Yue Fei’s keys hit the bowl. He just looks too delicious–
Wei Qing pounces on the man.
—
Luckily, these last few weeks of kisses have given Wei Qing a little bit of his self-control back– he no longer treats every touching of their lips like a brilliant surprise that must grab when he can, as it might never be repeated. Every morning that he wakes up with Yue Fei still gloriously present allows him to relax a little bit more. And thanks to that, he’s able to kiss-walk-drag his boyfriend over to their new, kinder sofa and even explain the concept of the date to him.
Yue Fei laughs but settles in. “Alright, then I’ll have to put myself in your hands.”
“You can do that anytime.” Oh, Wei Qing’s devilish side is out again. Yue Fei shivers in anticipation. Especially when, five minutes into an opening scene of two planets crashing into one another, Wei Qing’s bare feet find their way into his lap, squirming and burrowing in a heat-seeking way that would be more believable if their penthouse wasn’t so perfectly temperature-controlled.
Ten minutes in, Yue Fei is using the blunt edge of his neatly manicured nails to drag further and further up Wei Qing’s ankles as the hero is introduced. The main character is pulled from the escape pod, Wei Qing’s foot shifts up, chasing the feel of Yue Fei’s thumb, and ends up settled on his crotch instead.
Wei Qing’s eyes widen; Yue Fei freezes. And then, after one smoldering glance and several erratic heartbeats, Yue Fei turns back to the screen, his thumb still tracing those patterns– not moving Wei Qing’s foot at all. Even pressing down on it a little, as if encouraging the contact. (He is, but Wei Qing is too starstruck to believe it). Wei Qing does twitch a little, exploratorily, when the plot allows him enough plausible deniability to try to clumsily trace these new lands.
How much good information he actually gets through the sole of his foot, who can say? But the fact that Yue Fei allows it even seems to encourage him with those little adjustments he makes and the way his palms occasionally spasm and stutter in their ministrations…
By the thirty-minute mark, they’ve lost the plot, no matter how simple it is. There’s a man and a woman and an impending danger and more importantly, Wei Qing is so very warm, and all that heat is transferring to the place where he is connected to Yue Fei.
Makes Yue Fei want to chase that warmth, and deepen their connection.
So he does. When Wei Qing looks at him like no blockbuster will ever compare, Yue Fei slides his palm up that ankle and towards his calf, pulling the other man towards him. Not firm enough for force, but enough that even someone as self-doubting as Wei Qing can’t ignore the invitation in it.
Come then, if you dare it.
Wei Qing dares.
He allows himself to be pulled, bracing his hands against the cushions and helping his body along, directly up and over and into a straddle of a seat far more luxurious than the one he just exited. Legs spread, he hovers, eyes asking permission in a sober recreation of that first kiss. Yue Fei finds those familiar holds and guides the other man down so that his entire field of view is taken up by the beautiful sight of Wei Qing, sober and sparkling and his.
“Stunning.” His true thoughts come out.
There’s no rescuing the abandoned movie plot.
It’s a very faithful rendition of the trope after all; when Yue Fei hears the swell of the music, all he thinks is that it pales in comparison to the swell of Wei Qing’s ass in his hands, when explosions sound, Wei Qing feels that they are nothing compared to the taste on his tongue and the firing of his synapses, as he’s lost in the feeling of the man who has quietly become his guiding star, arching and panting underneath him, because of the things he’s doing. It’s empowering and enticing and inebriating, all at once.
Wei Qing wonders if he accidentally added liquor to the drinks; he can’t remember anyone ever tasting like this. For once, the reborn Wei Qing feels no doubt about chasing his pleasure, and Yue Fei doesn’t stop them, long past the times that he’s pulled away in the past.
‘Check in with yourself, and you’ll find what you’re looking for.’
There’s a rough-voiced monologue somewhere in the distance, something about duty and bravery in the face of total annihilation. Wei Qing thinks it’s the perfect time to be courageous.
One hand stays gripped against Yue Fei’s hand, the other falls– past his belly button and towards his trousers, already gloriously absent belt. Strokes what previously only his foot and own groin had been in delicious contact with. And then, because he’s shyer than his body, Wei Qing gives Yue Fei plenty of time to slow him down, that same misbehaving hand sliding back up, under the shirt this time.
Yue Fei runs so hot, surely hotter than anyone else, hot enough to scald. And oh, but Wei Qing wants to burn.
“Yue Fei~”
“Mmm?”
“Yue Fei, can I-?”
“Master Wei should do whatever he wants.”
Wei Qing has to take a break from kissing, to bite his own lip, and hold back the primal snarl that wants to spill out of him. But snarling, pulling off shirts, stripping off pants, and swallowing down cock until his male god will never want to look at anyone but him–
He’s not sure that’s something good boys do?
Probably, he should start with some (more) heavy petting? Maybe a handjob?
Yeah. He wants to see exactly what Yue Fei looks like when he comes. Wei Qing leans down, hungry and lean, like Yue Fei is the only prey in a snow-covered field, and his entire being is dedicated to capturing him.
—
Yue Fei has never been the focus of so much attention. It’s almost as soul-shattering as the blown-wide lust of Wei Qing’s pupils in the candlelight and refracted Hollywood lighting. But nothing compares to the way Wei Qing’s kisses and hands turn gentle and pampering, as he relaxes his body and sinks bonelessly down, perched on Yue Fei’s upper thighs instead of against his groin.
Yue Fei has a moment of pleasant confusion, and then those same soft hands are working in tandem to pop the button of his pants and slide down his zipper, this time, with Yue Fei’s breathless blessing. Call it oxygen deprivation, call it love; he’s not quite clear-headed enough to think to raise his hips and help Wei Qing pull his pants properly down, but Wei Qing doesn’t rush him.
He just chuckles and kisses and praises with equal frequency, as one aristocratic hand returns to cup his face, while the other brushes up and down, testing the length and readiness of his barely-covered cock. And fuck, but he’s ready. Ready enough that he’d be a little worried about this ending before the credits have any hope of rolling if he wasn’t so ensorcelled by every sound coming from Wei Qing’s devastating mouth.
Their roles are switched; now Yue Fei is the one being told that he’s good, that he’s perfect, that Wei Qing wants to take care of him. Yue Fei feels like he is sinking into a warm bath, as Wei Qing continues to stroke and praise him, first over his very proper gray underwear, then, one deep kiss later, with nothing but skin between them.
This is the benefit of experience. He has no idea how Wei Qing pulled him free without any friction or awkward adjustment through the slit in the boxer briefs, but as Wei Qing gasps and moans into his mouth, he’s damn grateful for it.
He discovers his gratitude has no upper limit when Wei Qing leans back on his heels, and never breaking eye contact, stops kissing him and languidly licks every part of his palm and finger pads, before dropping his saliva-moistened hand back to Yue Fei’s manhood, standing naked between their otherwise clothed bodies.
“-Fuck. Wei- Darling-”
“Sweetness- sweet- love-”
Wei Qing stays just out of reach, eyes hooded as he takes in the measure of Yue Fei, and the surreal image of Yue Fei’s cock being pumped by his hand. Fuck revenge, he’s okay if his entire rebirth is just this. He uses that expansive, idle mind of his to track the sensitivities exhibited and Yue Fei’s preferences. And then, because he’s drunk off this, but wants more, Wei Qing moves his free hand from where it’s stabilizing him on Yue Fei’s shoulder and up to the side of his neck. He wants-
“Hold me steady so I can see you, okay baby?”
Yue Fei looks up at him like a man possessed, and complies like Wei Qing is the demon he’s happily sold himself to, one hand hooking the outside of Wei Qing’s thigh while the other just barely manages to catch his waist.
Wei Qing smiles enchantingly, thumb swiping across Yue Fei’s slit while his other thumb pops into Yue Fei’s mouth, holding it gently open while the tips of his other fingers take the measure of his pulse. Fuck, Wei Qing himself is about to come from the debauched yet divine imagery in front of him.
He actually comes close, when Yue Fei’s tongue starts mimicking the motions of Wei Qing’s hand. Oh, for someone with uncertain experience, Yue Fei is a natural at this. Makes Wei Qing want to melt into him, discovering every last trick until his soul can write a compendium.
The movie plays on, the refreshments stay untouched, and Yue Fei slowly falls apart beneath him. Emphasis on the slow– Wei Qing does, after all, have the best seat in the house for this particular performance; when he notices Yue Fei tensing up and closing his eyes like he’s thinking of dead grandmas, Wei Qing understands. After all, he’s untouched yet feels like he’s edging just from the mental stimulation. In the interest of sharing all things with his boyfriend, Wei Qing goes as slowly as possible, even completely stopping at points and returning to those kisses, stretching this first encounter out as long as possible.
At least until he starts to get an arm cramp. Blame him for not going to the gym! Then, because he will absolutely finish what he started, he speeds up and guns for every little preference he’s discovered in this delicious exploration, cooing his delight at the way Yue Fei falls apart before he even registers the changes.
“Fuck, sorry, I got- all over your-”
Wei Qing looks down at their poor new couch and their poor expensive clothes and their poor dry-clean-only cashmere throw. He regrets nothing. He even swipes a finger through the abstract mess and pops it into his mouth, because even with an aching arm, he can’t help himself.
Neither can Yue Fei.
Before Wei Qing can pop the now-clean finger back out, Yue Fei is pressing him into the sofa and kissing him wildly, words not coming close to expressing the opinions he evidently has, about such wanton additions to the dry cleaning.
Why stop and clean up when you can just throw money at it?
Sometimes, Wei Qing really likes being rich.
Author’s Corner:
Happy Easter?
Best Easter of my life (≧▽≦)
I really like of their relationship is described, all the little flaws and hiccups in it.
The sentence “Breakfast is really good.” got me in stitches because I could imagine Yue Fei thinking that very often with his derailing thought to take back control. Poor him. Oh and I love devilish Wei Qing good good.
Thank you for the chapter as always !
Thank you for this spicy Easter gift 🤭💕
Thank you for the update ❤️💯
Thanks for the chapter~
Happy Easter indeed 😳😳😳😍😍😍😍😍 I think that was the hottest hand job I’ve ever read, and it’s so rewarding to see these two finally starting to overcome their psychological hurdles together. I love so much how they’re not rushing into things and just taking it slowly, one step at a time, figuring out their own and each others’ preferences and comfort levels. It’s so refreshing and realistic and I adore their dynamic so much!!! ❤❤❤❤❤
wow. different meaning to the words “he is come” xD
I think them going a bit slow at first is a good idea
thanks for the chapter <3
The old man’s advice 🤣. I’m happy that Yue Fei doesn’t isn’t letting his past experiences (or Wei Qing’s) stop him from fully engaging in the relationship and the benefits of Wei Qing’s attention.
Not me reading this at work and being all hot and bothered. 🫣 the cameras oh God🥲🥲