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There is a god kneeling at Hua Cheng’s feet.
Over the centuries many gods have dropped to their knees for him, always in a desperate cry for mercy for their worthless lives. Lesser beings, mortals, ghosts, demons, filth which he does not bother remembering, have dared to kneel for him.
None of them have ever knelt for this purpose.
None before and none after will dare.
This specific reason for kneeling is reserved for the only god worth the title.
Hua Cheng’s god.
Xie Lian is noticeably buzzing with nerves, fingers jumping from his chest to his ear down to rub his flushed cheek. Despite Hua Cheng’s assurance he did not need to do this if he was uncomfortable, Xie Lian assured him this is what he wanted. The determination in his eyes and the thin stubborn press of his lips had robbed most of the fight out of Hua Cheng.
Most of it.
He still swallowed a little dryly at the sight in front him. Blushing like a newly wedded bride, still shy before the consummation of their marriage, Xie Lian avoided looking at the space between Hua Cheng’s legs. He keeps taking glances just to bite his lip, giggle nervously and then flit his eyes away. He tucks his hair behind his ear, pulls it down and once again the strands of silky dark hair cover his eyes.
He repeats the cycle.
“Gege-“ Hua Cheng sucks in a breath.
Xie Lian looks up, meeting his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, the rosiest of flushes paint his cheekbones soft pink. He releases his chewed up bottom lip from his teeth, the recoil bouncing just the slightest and the teeth mark of his self inflicted abuse pulse a darker red. Then with that same lip which Hua Cheng cannot look away from, he smiles.
“I can do it, I want to do it.”
Xie Lian places a delicate hand over his knee, small compared to Hua Cheng’s body. Then he squeezes.
Hua Cheng goes rigid.
The matter was not that he did not believe in his god. His faith would forever be unwavering. The problem was that Hua Cheng was a beast of barely self contained lust, the shackles of his restraint buckled with just the sight of his god, his greatest, most sacrilegious temptation. To have him, to see with his own eye Xie Lian kneeling in between his legs, knowing it is only for the gratification of granting carnal pleasure.
Hua Cheng tightens his grip on the handles of his throne.
Just the sight alone has him half hard.
Then his god proves to be more merciless than the heavens believes him to be.
He takes a deep breath in, his chest rising with the motion, Hua Cheng’s ashes glinting from the light reflected, and he releases it. He pats his cheeks with shaking fingertips and shuffles closer. His hands hover over already untied pants. Just the waves of his body heat alone make Hua Cheng grit his teeth.
Xie Lian glances up at him for some kind of direction then some of his nerves ease at Hua Cheng’s jerky nod.
He lowers Hua Cheng’s pants.
Hua Cheng is almost fully hard.
Xie Lian’s eyes widen, the minute shift only noticeable when Hua Cheng has not dared to even blink. The flush in his cheeks get warmer, hotter. He lowers his eyes again, long eyelashes lowering shyly. The show of innocence has no place in the face of such depravity.
Hua Cheng’s depravity.
He stands tall and proud in front of his god.
Xie Lian wets his lower lip with a flash from his red tongue. He looks back at the show of Hua Cheng’s desire in front of him, his pupils wide and his mouth trembling just slightly. He swallows, once, twice, and with a shaking hand, he reaches out.
Hua Cheng traps his groan.
The soft hand holding him gently is barely a caress, a slight hover more than a firm grip. Xie Lian’s look of amazement is gratifying, also a bit amusing. The awe in his parted lips would make one believe he has never seen a cock before.
He has.
And not his own.
Hua Cheng glances down at Xie Lian’s lap. The tent his arousal presents is barely noticeable. Nothing worth mentioning, not like Xie Lian really bothers paying it any attention. He has regarded that part of him as unusable for so long it eventually became founded in some sense of truth. It might as well not exist for how little use he has of it now that he is married.
Hua Cheng found other parts of Xie Lian, a little lower and more carefully hidden, to be of much better use for them both.
Xie Lian applies pressure, tightens the grip of his hand just the slightest.
Hua Cheng cannot trap down his sharp inhale.
His palm is warm, so warm against Hua Cheng’s burning heat. He pulses in the grip, the first bead of precum already swelling under Xie Lian’s careful examination. His hand travels down, widens the further he goes until he reaches the base. His stroke is dry, a bit too much friction and the grip just the tiniest bit intense. Nothing Hua Cheng cannot handle, nothing he does not want to handle.
What he cannot handle is Xie Lian leaning closer, his lips wetted once more by the flash of his tongue. They’re red, the prettiest shade, Hua Cheng’s favorite color, and incredibly soft when they press just the tiniest bit off center on the tip of his cock.
He groans.
Xie Lian looks at him through his long dark eyelashes. His cheeks are still so flushed, maybe even flushed darker. He pulls back just the smallest bit and releases a sigh over the place he lips just touched. The soft breath is hot, warm gust only flickering the fire inside Hua Cheng higher until he hears a small sound of objection from the handles of his throne.
He was planning on replacing the damn useless thing either way.
Xie Lian glances at his hand then pointedly does not say anything. Instead he chooses to torture Hua Cheng.
He parts his soft tantalizing lips, shiny with saliva and flickers out his tongue. He licks up the bead of pre cum slowly, his head going with the motion. He does nothing special with the lick, an innocent lick on all accounts. When he pulls back his brows gently scrunch at the taste, appearing surprised, but not entirely displeased. He swallows and quickly licks up the following bead which appears in the half second he left.
Hua Cheng only barely manages to not close his eye to bask in the wet heat.
He exhales loudly.
Xie Lian continues his small tiny licks, dragging his wet tongue with more pressure the more Hua Cheng’s cock leaks for him. Eventually he grows too enthusiastic and his grip on the lower part is not enough to hold the tip still. He frowns, glances up at Hua Cheng for any more guidance.
Hua Cheng is digging his nails into his hand, the pinpricks of pain the only reminder to stay still.
Xie Lian seems to realize he will be getting no help. He pushes his tongue over the side of his mouth, pushing outwards the soft skin of his cheek. He bites his lip, white teeth flashing for a second, before his eyes light up.
He swallows Hua Cheng inside his mouth.
He sinks almost halfway before he seems to run into a problem.
Hua Cheng has the feeling of a warm liquid running down his palm.
When was the last time he bled?
Xie Lian gurgles around his cock, looking back at him with a muffled question in the set of his delicate brows and his tearing eyes. They glisten, growing wetter the longer Hua Cheng stays silent. Xie Lian tries asking something again, appearing to forget his capability of removing Hua Cheng from his mouth.
Then he lowers his eyes, appearing to sulk for a moment.
Around the middle of Hua Cheng’s cock, where the wet warmth cuts off, a single drop of drool slides down to the base.
Hua Cheng wonders if destroying the ashes is the only way to kill a ghost.
Xie Lian tests his question by doing something with his tongue, flattening it, relaxing the back of his mouth. Then he sinks down, stuffs Hua Cheng down the rest of his throat with little problem.
Hua Cheng is a ghost; he does not need sleep.
But ghosts are able to hallucinate.
That’s how they go mad.
He tries to remember the difference between reality and hallucinations.
Xie Lian swallows around him.
Oh.
Yeah.
That was the difference.
He thinks his control slipped for a moment there. He hears Xie Lian suddenly choke, his body stuttering back but not pulling off him. Hands with long thin fingers grip his tensed thighs. They push him down to his throne with unnatural strength and only then, does the wet warm start pulling up.
Hau Cheng groans. Both at the loss and the friction.
Xie Lian pulls off half way. The corners of his mouth are already starting to flush red. His lips are glistening with escaped saliva. The sharp breaths he takes from his nose are loud, uneven and his chest stutters when it rises and lowers. He does not seem to realize he has not tucked in his teeth behind his lip quite fully, but the slight drag is nothing compared to the pleasure of his sweet mouth.
Xie Lian stays still for a long moment.
Hua Cheng struggles to keep his other hand on his ruined throne.
Then Xie Lian sinks back down. His mouth is heavenly, divine, heat indescribable even with all the literature Hua Cheng has read over the centuries. In fact, his mind blanks completely under the rise and fall of his god’s mouth. Xie Lian pulls up and down with no technique and little rhythm, just sliding him from the roof of his mouth deep into his throat with no movement from his tongue or special attention to any part of his cock.
He seems more focused on the motion of going up and then down smoothly to realize the art of serving another with their mouth requires more than simply being a warm wet hole.
Hua Cheng is dangerously close.
The hair behind Xie Lian’s ear tumbles down.
Before Xie Lian can push it back Hua Cheng’s stiff fingers are already tucking it.
Xie Lian looks up.
The corners of his mouth lift up into a sweet smile.
That last of Hua Cheng’s self control snaps.
He hears Xie Lian gurgle of surprise. He feels the snug closing of his throat around his length. He even sees teary eyes spill down rosy red cheeks.
The only thing Hua Cheng does in response is grip Xie Lian’s hair tighter and snap his hips up. His head falls back, his body shuddering as he finally takes the control he held back from snatching at the start. Low moans and groans finally let loose after holding back for so long. His eye roll back at the snug wet heat contracting around him, the flutter of adrenaline pulsing around his cock.
Xie Lian tries to say something. The muffled vibrations of his words only serve to make Hua Cheng tremble. He was already close before he took control. The satisfaction of taking what was rightfully his, along with the pace and grip finally adjusting to his preference brings him to the edge.
He considers keeping Xie Lian down to the base of his cock for just a second. The image of tainting the inside of his god’s mouth with his release flashes by.
Too tempting.
The last second he pulls out.
Just in time to see ropes of cum shoot all over Xie Lian’s face. The intensity reaches his forehead and only his god’s fast reflexes manage to close his eyes before white paint his closed eyelids and brows. Most of the mess ends inside his mouth either way. His lips are red, puffy, swollen and drenched in Hua Cheng’s evidence of his desecration. From Hua Cheng’s angle he can see it pooling down in between his teeth and his tongue.
It spills from overflow.
His cock attempts one last weak splutter.
Hua Cheng collapses on his throne.
Xie Lian opens his eyes. They’re hazy, clouded and the pupils are still blown wide. A small bit of cum drips from his eyelashes into his cheekbone. He swipes it, does not bother looking at it before he licks it with his already drenched tongue. That only causes the accumulated cum to drip down his chin.
Xie Lian closes his mouth instantly. He wipes the corners of his mouth with his fingers; stains each one until he runs out of clean fingers. Then he looks pleadingly at Hua Cheng.
Hua Cheng laughs in disbelief.
His god would be the death of him.