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“tell me-- tell me you like me,” jiang cheng’s voice is thick with tears, like syrup melting off of a spoon. this is the first time wei wuxian has seen him cry so openly. beneath him, jiang cheng weeps, clinging on as if he would disappear and begging desperately to be loved by a man he knows will never be his.
“i would be lying if i did,” wei wuxian says, pressing in deep, spurred on by the nails that are drawing blood from his shoulders. his cock is throbbing, the heat from jiang cheng’s body spreading through him, warming him from the inside out. he was never one to care much for criers, but somehow seeing jiang cheng’s face crumble as tears begin to fall like fresh snow is making him want to go harder, faster until he’s torn this man to shreds with his own two hands. “is that okay?”
the answering sob he gets is accompanied by a wet gurgling as jiang cheng almost chokes on his own spit. a new wave of tears spills over, drenches his pretty face even more than it already had and wei wuxian shoves in faster. he wants to split jiang cheng on his cock until there’s nothing left of him, until he is just a husk of a man, broken by the one person he’d thought would cherish him.
wei wuxian doesn’t know when he’d become such a monster, perhaps it was when everyone in the world had turned against him, or when he’d lost the only people that ever mattered to him, or when the loving looks from lan wangji had felt like nothing more than a cold wind blowing right through the hollow in his chest.
but this - with his cock buried deep enough that he can see it making a home for itself in jiang cheng’s belly - feels so warm. warmer than wei wuxian has been since the day he plummeted to his death. he finally feels like the blood inside of his body is pumping, flowing through him, like it had when he was alive. wei wuxian digs his fingertips deeper into jiang cheng’s sweat-soaked skin just to feel his pulse throb.
“i love you,” wei wuxian says, and it sounds empty even to his own ears, but jiang cheng sobs, sounding both agonised and euphoric. his whole body arches up beneath wei wuxian, his ass clamps down around his cock and he sobs in pure relief, lost in the ecstasy of being told that he is loved, he is wanted, he means something to someone for the first time in decades. the warmth of his climax sears through them both as jiang cheng writhes and bucks and comes and comes and comes.
wei wuxian flips him over onto his stomach and pushes back in, ignoring the way jiang cheng tries to squirm away. there are bite marks and bruises littering his back, his stomach, his thighs, every inch of him mottled with wei wuxian’s brand. jiang cheng is still crying under him, fists clenched into the damp sheets as he takes all that wei wuxian is willing to give him. he watches him shake all over, struggling to hold on as his hole clenches and unclenches around the intrusion, overstimulated and raw and desperate for more.
to readily endure it all just for three hollow, meaningless words? not even wei wuxian could have imagined that jiang cheng was this pathetic. being the regal sandu shengshou’s downfall makes something swell inside him until wei wuxian feels high off of the dizzying feeling. there’s nothing in the world that can stop him from taking his fill.
when he lifts his head to shove hair out his face, wei wuxian catches a glimpse of them in the ornate mirror that sits opposite the bed. jiang cheng looks like a mess of snot and tears, his face so puffy it won’t return to normal for days. wei wuxian watches his own reflection smile, slow and sinister, his eyes glowing red as jiang cheng moans his name like an animal in heat. he sounds like a dying man kneeling as he begs forgiveness and redemption, like he’s singing the praise of a god that can save him from himself. he still doesn’t realise that the god he is praying to is the one that will bring him to ruin without mercy, without remorse.
wei wuxian can feel the void inside himself filling up, like warm water being poured into a tub until it overflows and spills over the edges and soaks everything around it. the hollow in his chest is beginning to look strangely jiang cheng shaped, had it always been like that? he doesn’t know. wei wuxian had been so caught up in the euphoria of being loved so openly, indulged so fully by lan wangji that he had never even considered that maybe this was what he needed from the start. he knows now that this is what he needs, who he needs, and he will have him. even when jiang cheng has outgrown his desire to be loved, has forgotten what love even is, wei wuxian will carve a space for himself deep within jiang cheng until there is no room for anything else.
to desire someone viscerally enough to want to monopolize him - to tie him up and hide him away because the mere thought of someone else laying their filthy eyes on jiang cheng makes wei wuxian’s blood boil - should be scary, it should be horrifying but all he can feel is a new weight in his chest where a heart should be. his nails are tearing into supple skin where he has gripped jiang cheng’s hips too tightly, and the muffled protests that it hurts, gege it hurts are what bring wei wuxian back to himself enough to ease his grip.
“does it hurt, a-cheng?” wei wuxian’s voice sounds gentle, a mimicry of the foolish adoration he had held for jiang cheng when they were young and knew nothing of the world. the look jiang cheng gives him over his shoulder as he sniffles and nods looks hopeful. it makes wei wuxian want to hurt him even more.
“a-xian please, it hurts,” jiang cheng blinks, and more tears slide down his reddened cheeks when the cruel fingers dig further into him, as if to break through skin and sink down into muscle. wei wuxian lets go to run his fingers through jiang cheng’s hair, gently taking out his lopsided ornaments and untangling his braids. when jiang cheng leans into his hands, body relaxing into the mattress with a blissed out sigh, he feels like he might suffocate. wei wuxian watches the way jiang cheng’s eyes go half-lidded, lashes fluttering as if on the brink of sleep as his head sags, held up only by the hand curled in inky black strands. just as he sinks fully into the haze of comfort, wei wuxian yanks his head back, just to see jiang cheng’s eyes go wide as the illusion of warmth that he had wrapped himself in is shattered.
“fuck you, jiang cheng,” he shoves jiang cheng’s face back into the bed and holds him there like he’s collaring a dog by the nape of its neck, and fucks into him with renewed vigor. he ignores the half-choked protests that disappear into the plush silk pillows, and wei wuxian doesn’t stop even after jiang cheng’s body goes limp and quiet beneath him, finally succumbing to the exhaustion. he doesn’t know what he wants to do anymore; doesn’t know if all of this is really worth it, if playing pretend just to keep jiang cheng by his side will last, but when has he ever cared? if things go wrong, he can throw jiang cheng away like an old, used toy. and oh how beautiful he will look when he’s tossed aside again like he was before, like he always will be. the harsh reminder that jiang cheng is good for nothing but being used.
it’s as if something inside wei wuxian has finally dislodged; a volcano that has been on the brink of eruption for what feels like eternity is finally erupting. wei wuxian tips his head back and pushes all the way inside jiang cheng’s slick heat and fills him again and clings onto him so tightly he can feel the bones beneath his palms creaking.
when the haze of orgasm begins to fade, wei wuxian stares down at the evidence of his fire that brands jiang cheng’s body. like this, it feels as though every part of him belongs to wei wuxian, all the way down to where he is clamped tight around wei wuxian’s cock. every inch of him is lost to the deepest parts of jiang cheng’s body, and it’s like he’s drowning in his own greed. wei wuxian remembers how, in his youth, he was desperate to get this close to jiang cheng, until they were just extensions of one another. two broken halves of a whole that, for years had felt irreparable. now, wei wuxian presses his fingers between them, where his cock disappears into jiang cheng. reverently, he slips the tip of his index finger beneath the seam of their joint bodies, just to feel the warm flesh flutter against the stretch. he wants to pull until jiang cheng tears, a childish attempt at revenge for being left behind as everyone else grew up without him.
there is no telling how long he kneels there, transfixed by the body that clings to him like a lifeline. wei wuxian had forgotten how unpleasant it was to have someone pick up the pieces of himself in an attempt at salvation. he knows what comes next; he will be torn to shreds again, and every broken fragment of his rotting existence will be drawn thinner yet when jiang cheng knits them together.
the wet slide of his dick when he pulls out of jiang cheng’s limp body is horrible, yet he can’t resist pressing shaky fingers to keep his spend from spilling out. wei wuxian wants to sew jiang cheng shut, to keep his cum inside until he is full to bursting, until his stomach is bulging with wei wuxian. it is no longer enough to feel his core pulsing inside jiang cheng’s body, nothing will ever be enough to quell the itch that has been born out of this night spent forcing two shattered halves whole.
~~
when jiang cheng comes back to himself, there’s a startling pain that begins at his pelvis, spreads down through his legs and up his spine. how long had he been asleep? he doesn’t even remember losing consciousness, his mind too hazy from wei wuxian’s hands, lips, cock all over him, burning right through his very soul. he thinks about the way those words had sounded on wei wuxian’s tongue and a fresh wave of tears stings his eyes.
“i never knew you could be such a crybaby,” wei wuxian is sitting up beside him, watching him with a delighted little smile on his face. this version of him reminds jiang cheng a little bit of the yiling laozu that had turned the cultivation world on its head all those years ago, and it scares him. he’s like a fly entangled in the spider’s web but even now, jiang cheng wants nothing more than to bury himself in wei wuxian’s warmth like a lover would. he lifts himself on shaky arms and slides forward enough to drop his head onto wei wuxian’s thigh.
“i’m not crying.” jiang cheng says, doesn’t shy away when wei wuxian presses his thumb into the corner of his eye, allows him to gather an unshed tear and watches him bring it up to his tongue. jiang cheng has never felt so coveted by anyone. “wei wuxian. a-xian--”
it’s the wrong thing to say, perhaps he hit a nerve, because wei wuxian lifts his hand and brings it down in a harsh slap that stings his cheek. the killing intent in his endlessly red eyes makes jiang cheng’s blood go cold, yet he cannot look away, stunned still by the cruel reminder that this wei wuxian is not the same as the boy he has loved all his life. his throat clicks when he tries to swallow around the sobs that threaten to bubble up out of his mouth, and wei wuxian’s eyes flick down to the curve of his neck. jiang cheng watches his tongue swipe across his bottom lip, watches his pupils blow wide and then there is nothing but the searing pain of teeth tearing through his skin.
he’s being marked. like an animal, jiang cheng is being claimed as wei wuxian’s personal prey.
“you’re mine now, jiang cheng. you’re mine, do you understand?” wei wuxian bites him again and again until jiang cheng grows dizzy with the scent of blood and arousal. he must faint again, because when he blinks he’s propped up in the tub, warm water stinging the places wei wuxian had marked him.
“i love you,” jiang cheng says, unable to meet wei wuxian’s eyes because this is the first time he has ever uttered the words out loud. they sound foreign to his own ears, as though this is not his voice, nor his body, nor his heart. “i’ve loved you for so long, it’s unbearable.”
wei wuxian’s hand stills where it had been washing jiang cheng’s shoulder, and it feels like the whole world has stopped moving. he can barely breathe, tense under the hot fingers digging into his flesh. it’s laughable that the slightest shift from this man can activate jiang cheng’s instincts to run, run, run lest he be swallowed whole. eventually, wei wuxian moves again, but he doesn’t say a single word as he methodically cleans jiang cheng and wraps him in a clean robe.
jiang cheng is terrified of what wei wuxian has become, but there is nowhere he would rather be than on his knees in front of the man he loves, with delicate fingers combing through his damp hair and braiding it just the way he likes. the marks on his body ache, a delicious reminder that this is exactly where he belongs. no matter what happens to him now, jiang cheng has wei wuxian by his side again. not for the first time, jiang cheng decides that he is fine with dying if it’s by wei wuxian’s hands.
nothing can stop them when they’re together, the twin prides of yunmeng have reunited, he is safe.