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"I thought you didn't use this room," Zhuo Yichen was saying uselessly.
Obviously he didn't. What use did he have for something like this? He wasn't mortal and he wouldn't pretend to be.
But if Li Lun tried to fuck him on the ground outside, he knew he would only complain the whole time. This way, he could steer him in the right direction with minimal protesting.
"What is it that's so important, anyway?" Zhuo Yichen asked. "I was sleeping."
"Sit on the bed."
He sat, a slight frown on his face. It didn't matter; if he really did continue to follow directions, he could frown all he wanted.
Li Lun looked down at him discerningly. At least he didn't bring his fucking sword with him.
"What?" Zhuo Yichen said distrustfully.
"Lie down," he said, taking a step forward.
Zhuo Yichen leaned backward but did not lie down. Li Lun took another step forward, just so he could loom over him.
"Lie," he said again, slowly, "down."
Zhuo Yichen flushed a bit but did as he was told, awkwardly leaning back until his back hit the bed. "I don't know why you—"
Li Lun climbed on top of him, hands and knees to either side, and Zhuo Yichen made a very pleasant gasping noise. What wasn't pleasant was the insistent push of both hands on his chest, intending to throw him backwards.
"What are you doing?" Zhuo Yichen asked, already breathless.
"Your goddess said you were very obedient," he said. "Maybe I wanted to try."
"Try… ordering me around?" Zhuo Yichen asked, indignant.
"Yes," he said simply. He looked down at him, considering his options for a moment.
He had, very crucially, left the room unwarded. Zhu Yan would be able to hear them. Zhuo Yichen didn't need to know that.
His eyes caught on the slightly exposed skin on Zhuo Yichen's wrist. The bruise around his wrist was thin and purple. Baize shackles.
"What the fuck," he spat, rolling up his sleeve, "is this."
Zhuo Yichen had the good sense to look embarrassed. "Why do you care?"
He grabbed Zhuo Yichen's wrist over the bruise, squeezing without sympathy. Zhuo Yichen made a choked sound that was actually very nice— Li Lun released the pressure and squeezed harder just to hear it again. Perhaps… perhaps the results were worth the insult.
"You let her restrain you?" he asked, knowing the answer. "You liked it?"
"None of your business," he said, embarrassed.
"Let me guess," he continued, "Zhu Yan liked it too?"
Zhuo Yichen looked away. He was blushing; Li Lun nearly scoffed. He had liked it. The goddess had used it on them both— as if it were a tool of pleasure rather than pain. And, what, both at the same time?
"What have you done with him?" Li Lun asked directly.
"Done— done with him?"
"Did your goddess restrain you while he fucked you?" he asked crisply.
Zhuo Yichen scoffed like it was inconceivable. "No!"
"She had you all tied up for him, and he did nothing with it?"
"It wasn't for him, I—" he closed his mouth. "Why do you care?"
"Zhu Yan's failures always interest me," Li Lun said sweetly.
"What failure?" Zhuo Yichen snapped.
"Having you mooning over him and doing nothing with it." It was right there for the taking, and he refused to take it?
"He— he did do something. And I don't do that."
Li Lun raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to answer the question he asked ages ago. Perhaps the goddess had lied when she said he could follow simple commands.
Zhuo Yichen looked away. "We kissed."
"How?"
"How?" Zhuo Yichen echoed.
"Show me," Li Lun said impatiently.
"What?" Zhuo Yichen jerked, pushing at him. "Why? What are you doing?"
Li Lun leaned down, watching as his eyes got wider and he tried to squeeze himself backwards into the bed. "I'm willingly shackling myself to a child's contract," he reminded him bitingly, "because you said please."
Zhuo Yichen frowned, eyes shifting distractedly. "It's not a child's contract, I'm writing it with him—"
Li Lun put a hand over his mouth, to which Zhuo Yichen made an indignant sound, and leaned his face closer. There: Zhuo Yichen's eyes were focused on him again.
"I accepted," he said slowly, "your stupid root vegetables." Zhuo Yichen breathed unsteadily under his hand. "Now show me how Zhu Yan kissed you."
He removed his hand slowly, dragging it over his lips, and moved it to the bed beside his head. Zhuo Yichen was frozen with shock; Li Lun raised his eyebrows impatiently.
"So I'm him and you're… me?" he asked hesitantly.
"Obviously," Li Lun ground out.
"It." Zhuo Yichen visibly tried to right himself, shifting his shoulders slightly, and then sighed at himself. "Well, it was. It wasn't much, it— here."
Zhuo Yichen lifted his head slightly to meet his instead of pulling him down. He put a hesitant hand on Li Lun's jaw and pressed his lips firmly and chastely into his, lingering for a few moments. When he leaned back down, he took his hand away. Zhuo Yichen opened his eyes and looked surprised at Li Lun's unconcealed disappointment.
"There's no way he kissed you like that," he said icily.
"That is what it was like," Zhuo Yichen said indignantly. Then, he added: "The first time."
"The first time," Li Lun echoed flatly. He watched Zhuo Yichen swallow. "How many were there?"
"I don't know," he said idiotically.
"You don't know."
"Does it count as one? If," he tried to gesture, but there wasn't room, so it was a useless wiggle. "If lips don't really totally separate?"
"Show me," Li Lun said disbelievingly.
"I— I can," Zhuo Yichen said finally, "but I need to be on top."
Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Fine," he said, rolling down beside him to his back. Zhuo Yichen would follow his commands either way; he might as well be more relaxed.
Zhuo Yichen took forever to climb on top of him. "Hurry up," Li Lun urged him, and Zhuo Yichen jolted into action, copying his previous position. He looked down at him like he couldn't believe what he was doing.
"Go on," he said coolly.
"You don't sound like you want it," he said petulantly.
"What I don't want," Li Lun snapped, "is to be forced to wait."
That jolted Zhuo Yichen into action. He leaned down, eyes closed in deep concentration rather than passion, and pressed his forehead to his, noses touching. For a moment, he only breathed. Li Lun was half a second from snapping at him again when he finally angled his face and moved his lips down.
It was very, very boring. The pressure was feather-light. The feeling of Zhuo Yichen's breath against his lips was stronger than the skin against them. Zhuo Yichen lingered there like an idiot. His knee nudged his hip, bumbling about, and his hand came to rest on his chest. Li Lun almost bit him for the audacity of it; he'd allowed a kiss, not given him free range to grope at him.
Zhuo Yichen adjusted the pressure of his lips slightly, releasing him for a bare moment before pressing down again. It was the same gentle bullshit.
"Good?" Zhuo Yichen said, not pulling away at all. The speaking against his lips was the most movement he'd gotten out of him so far.
"Absolutely not," Li Lun said. It came out much less loudly than he'd intended, with Zhuo Yichen right there. The whisper register stole most of his ire from him— annoying.
"No," Zhuo Yichen said, releasing back a bit, pressing his hand down on his chest. Li Lun should snap if off. "That's what he said to me."
Li Lun grunted. "Is there more or not?"
"You interrupted me," Zhuo Yichen complained with a small frown.
"I don't want words," Li Lun snapped. "Continue."
"Fine." Zhuo Yichen pressed his lips together. Then, awkwardly and hesitantly, he started to inch closer. He stalled, looking at Li Lun's expression with some trepidation. Li Lun didn't temper it for him. Zhuo Yichen's face hardened with determination and he continued, touching their noses together again. Li Lun stared, pissed off, at the sight of Zhuo Yichen's firmly closed eyes.
Lips again. Still no trace of tongue; still his breath was most of the pressure. No biting, no blood. No qi. What had Zhuo Yichen done to encourage this? What had he said to good?
The side of Zhuo Yichen's nose rubbed against his again, like that was somehow the focus of this. The hand on his chest came up to the base of his throat, drawing a thumb softly up the side. It might have felt nice if he'd had his yao marks there; as it was, it was underwhelming.
Li Lun sighed with boredom. Zhuo Yichen must interpret it as passion, because he made a faint sound back. It probably wasn't loud enough for Zhu Yan to hear. Li Lun should start biting him to make him louder.
Unless that was supposed to be his imitation of Zhu Yan's own sound? But Zhu Yan wouldn't sound like that.
One more half-hearted drag of the lips across his, and Zhuo Yichen pulled back just slightly enough to see his face. Li Lun wanted to frown at him, but he wouldn't open his eyes.
"Are you using me as a replacement for him?" Zhuo Yichen said quietly.
Li Lun clenched his teeth in rage. Both answers to that question were humiliating. Li Lun chose the one that would hurt him. "Yes."
Somehow, Zhuo Yichen only relaxed a fraction, even as he said: "I don't think I can be him very well."
That was obvious. It was inconceivable that Zhu Yan really had acted like this. And if he had, then—
"This is stupid, anyway," Li Lun said. "Zhu Yan doesn't like it like this at all."
"Huh?" Zhuo Yichen said stupidly. "You don't want the rest?"
There was more of that shit? Who wanted that? "I'll show you how to do it properly," he said magnanimously. "Lean down."
Zhuo Yichen made a doubtful frown but obeyed as directed. It was irritatingly slow and hesitant. Li Lun used those annoying moments to choose between claws and teeth. By the time Zhuo Yichen was close enough, he had readied both.
He closed his hand around his throat the same instant that he bit, only half as hard as Zhu Yan would, at his upper lip. Zhuo Yichen gasped, and he released him to nip at his bottom lip instead, slowly increasing the pressure of the tips of the claws he'd prepared for him on the delicate skin of his throat.
When Zhu Yan had used them on Li Lun, he'd always drawn blood. Now, as him, Li Lun hesitated.
There would be time to rend flesh later. Now, he only scraped over the vulnerable skin there, teasing a danger with no real follow-up. Sex with Zhu Yan had always been half a fight, testing each other's power, reaffirming their match. There was none of that here. Would Zhuo Yichen spar if he asked him to? Would Li Lun, in his current state, make a fool of himself? He opened Zhuo Yichen's lips with his own, licking along his teeth and then past them, pushing into his soft palate.
Zhuo Yichen made a small, desperate noise. He felt it under his hand. Zhu Yan would hear that. Li Lun knew, instinctively, that this was much better than anything Zhu Yan had been able to wring from him.
And he would wring more.
He increased the pressure of the claws, reaching around to the top of his spine, pressing in there. Zhuo Yichen gasped almost violently, jerking into him, hand coming up to his face. He considered brushing it off and licked along his lip instead. The hand flexed and gripped harder.
Li Lun pulled back slightly, giving Zhu Yan a chance to speak, but he heard nothing. Was he waiting for an invitation? Would he storm in here, claiming mistreatment?
"We've switched," Zhuo Yichen said, strained. His thumb was getting ideas about Li Lun's cheekbone. "Now you're him."
"And I'm better at it," he snapped. Why wasn't Zhu Yan speaking? Did he not think it was even worth noting?
Zhuo Yichen just panted, looking at him. His lips were wet. His eyes roamed his face, but he didn't lean forward without permission.
Zhu Yan's lack of conviction was astounding.
It wasn't just that Zhuo Yichen had been willing to lay down and die for him. He had been willing to burn for him and say nothing about it. He had kept his mouth shut through it, unwilling to hurt him. Zhu Yan knew that, and looked into the face of that, and didn't use it?
Li Lun could continue; he could roll Zhuo Yichen under him and goad him into fighting like he and Zhu Yan used to. He could draw blood and use it to make things nice and warm and slick. But suddenly, all he felt was nausea. Zhu Yan could take it; that was one thing he'd always been certain of. But he wasn't sure about Zhuo Yichen. The sight of him holding a knife to his own neck within the dream, of the killing strike that Li Lun had intercepted only because boredom had brought him close— it made him feel strange. Zhu Yan hadn't made him feel this way.
Li Lun let his fingers become blunt again, hand slipping from his throat.
Zhu Yan hadn't said a word since they'd begun. Maybe he didn't care at all what he did with his toy.
Zhuo Yichen was shifting slightly above him, like he wasn't sure what he was allowed. His hand was still trembling on his face, which was distracting. He pried it off and set it next to his head.
"What?" Li Lun demanded.
"If—" Zhuo Yichen cut himself off. "If you thought the root vegetables were stupid, then what do you want?"
Li Lun wondered if he remembered that those had been courting gifts, not a debt repayment. He didn't remind him.
"Did Zhu Yan share energy with you?" he asked. Zhuo Yichen frowned stupidly but nodded. "I want what he gave you."
"Why not ask him?" Zhuo Yichen asked.
Idiotic. "I'm not asking him."
"I can't… separate qi like that," he admitted.
Li Lun rolled his eyes. Of course he couldn't. "Fine. I'll do it for you. But it's easiest if I'm inside you."
He pressed a finger to Zhuo Yichen's lips. He froze like that, eyes wide, not even opening his mouth to ask.
"Open your mouth," he said, making a halfhearted attempt to sound patient. A moment later, Zhuo Yichen's lips moved with indecision, but they still didn't open. "Are you doing it or not?"
Finally, Zhuo Yichen opened his jaw— tentatively, like he thought Li Lun might send something all the way down his throat. He kept the irritation off his face; he needed Zhuo Yichen cooperative. Calmly, he opened Zhuo Yichen's jaw, using his thumb and forefinger to widen his teeth, and then pressed his first two fingers flat against his tongue. Zhuo Yichen made a warbled sound of indignance but didn't try to bite him, leaving his jaw the shape that Li Lin had left it.
Li Lun closed his eyes, exhaling, and began the transfer. Zhuo Yichen made a sharp, cut-off sound when he directed the qi into him through his tongue. One of his hands was now tentatively placed on Li Lun's shoulder; he ignored it. After several patient moments, Zhuo Yichen finally started to reciprocate.
He hadn't lied. Zhu Yan's bright, forceful qi was a thread within his own. As it passed through him, Li Lun siphoned it off, coaxing the crimson away from the deep blue.
It was much better this way. Zhu Yan's overwhelming, roiling power stung when taken directly. Pried off Zhuo Yichen, it was chilled and calmed, like a beast asleep. Li Lun pressed harder into Zhuo Yichen's tongue, exhaling. He felt Zhuo Yichen attempt to swallow around his fingers, not entirely unpleasant.
The transfer was easy like this, reclined and relaxed, but it could be more efficient. If they sped it up, he would have more chances to siphon out the crimson thread of Zhu Yan's qi within Zhuo Yichen's with every loop it made between them. Pleasure would do that; his or Zhuo Yichen's, it didn't matter so much.
It would require him to search for things Zhuo Yichen liked, easy enough. Opening his eyes, Li Lun lifted the hand not in his mouth and trailed a finger slowly down along his windpipe. Zhuo Yichen's shoulders shifted promisingly, and the qi was easier taken.
"Lean down," he said. It was good that they had traded places; it was effortless like this.
Zhuo Yichen obeyed, but annoyingly slowly, leaning down like he expected Li Lun to snap at him once he was within reach. Li Lun used the grip he had between the first two fingers on his tongue and his thumb below his chin to pull him down past where he stalled. This way, Li Lun had to move his head only very slightly to suck Zhuo Yichen's earlobe into his mouth.
The immediate surge in efficiency was as expected; it was better when he applied his teeth. He felt Zhuo Yichen's exhale on his own fingers.
The quick improvement made him greedy. He shouldn't have accepted sloppy work when Zhuo Yichen would allow him this. Or was it only something he would do now that he was thinking of Li Lun as Zhu Yan?
It didn't matter; Zhu Yan listening outside wouldn't know the difference.
Zhuo Yichen was dressed for sleep, committed to the inane practice, which had the benefit now that it was easy to slip a hand though the layers and onto his bare stomach. Muscle tensed under the touch. Li Lun released his ear to placate him. "Pleasure makes it more efficient."
To the words or the feeling of them on his ear, Zhuo Yichen made a small noise and pressed his cheek firmly into Li Lun's own. It was annoying; it bent the wrist entering his mouth at an odd angle.
He let claws scrape slowly over his stomach. Zhuo Yichen bit down on his fingers, keening. Was it that good? Li Lun used his thumb to pry his teeth apart again, trailing his other hand up around his hip to his lower back. If it were Zhu Yan, he would make an incision and finger him through it. But Zhuo Yichen's saliva was already dripping down one of his hands; he didn't want to dirty the other one.
He pressed the flat of his thumb into the bone of his spine, dragging it up, and then pressed into the muscle on each side. Zhuo Yichen's hand tightened on his shoulder, tongue pressing up into his fingers. He didn't have to rely on these things to know he liked it. The transfer was fast and open, roiling with pleasure.
He had gotten nearly all of Zhu Yan's qi— but not all of it.
Li Lun spoke lowly into Zhuo Yichen's ear. "We can do better, mm?"
He should get a clear answer from him, just so Zhu Yan could hear him say yes. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth, which made the transfer wane slightly. Li Lun didn't even have to prompt him for a verbal response. As soon as Zhuo Yichen could swallow, he was saying: "Yes."
He was shifting his face to press his nose into the side of his face, to rub his cheek against him like a cat. It was annoying.
He moved his hand slowly from Zhuo Yichen's back to his stomach, letting the transfer continue through the skin there, tired of his fingers being wet. Zhuo Yichen yelped, pressing into him further. Their hips almost met. He was running out of room to work.
"Can I—" Zhuo Yichen asked breathlessly.
"No," Li Lun said simply. He ran his wet fingers along Zhuo Yichen's jaw and neck, drying them a bit.
Zhuo Yichen made a small, hurt sound. "I can't touch you?"
Now he asked? "Take a look at where your hands are right now."
Zhuo Yichen's hands tensed and then suddenly released where they'd been gripping his shoulder and arm.
Maybe he shouldn't have discouraged that. It was more awkward if he wasn't touching him at all. "There," Li Lun said reluctantly, "is fine."
Li Lun laid his free hand on top of his head. He could pull him off by the hair if he did something stupid.
Zhuo Yichen touched him again, consciously this time, squeezing his bicep like he'd never felt another arm before. He pressed his nose hesitantly into his neck. "Here?" he asked delicately.
If he started biting, he'd get pulled off. "Fine." He scraped along the skin of Zhuo Yichen's stomach again to get him to focus, jolting him. "Lift your hips."
He did. Li Lun kept the hand pressed to his core, feeling his muscle obey the order. Once he stilled, Li Lun hummed brief assent and pushed his fingers more firmly into the flesh there.
"I'm touching your cock," he narrated for Zhu Yan. He swiped his thumb in an arc, hinting at a downward path. He should make Zhuo Yichen say it again. "Yes?"
"You—" Zhuo Yichen's sentence fizzled into nothing. Even at just the words, the exchange settled further into an easier path. Perhaps next time he should see what he could do with just words. The waves of energy between them were powerful and heady, even for him. It had been a while since he'd had anyone who— "Yes," Zhuo Yichen said.
He moved his hand down, pressure firm, and gripped him through the last thin layer of fabric. Zhuo Yichen's hot breath on his throat sped and the transfer blew wide and easy between them. Li Lun felt Zhuo Yichen struggle not to press forward into him again; he had just ordered him back. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled, slightly, testing. He felt Zhuo Yichen's mouth open, the loop between them pulsing with power. It was as effortless as it had ever been with Zhu Yan.
He'd intended to move his hand up to his waistband, linger there before sliding under the fabric. But after a few moments of simply mapping the shape of him, Zhuo Yichen was crying out, coming in his clothes with jerking, forceful exhales. Li Lun felt, with vague disbelief, the way the pathways between them swelled even larger and then, settling like a leaf, relaxed back to what it had been. Already? Zhuo Yichen jerked in his hold, keening quietly, but didn't grab at him to force his hand away. Another few motions and he might have him loud enough for Zhu Yan to barge in.
Li Lun let his hand drop.
Zhuo Yichen must guess that he'd get kicked off immediately if he moved, so he held still. Li Lun rewarded it with a scratch at the base of his scalp. It would be good if he felt inclined to come back, again and again, to give him more. He considered how best to do that. He reacted well to praise. What part of that could he safely praise?
"Through you, his yao qi feels better," he said, pitching it as praise even if it had nothing much to do with his own skill. Li Lun had done all of the work himself. Still, it worked, and Zhuo Yichen even shuddered a bit. Li Lun dug his nails into his scalp harder, and he made that small gasping sound again.
He closed off the loop, letting it fade to nothing. Zhuo Yichen shifted his cheek and he felt something wet on his neck.
"You don't want— ah— anything?" Zhuo Yichen's voice was hoarse and stumbling. "All of the pleasure was… mine."
To be touched was not the only way to experience pleasure. He obviously didn't say that. "I've gotten enough of what I wanted."
Li Lun let him breathe a moment longer and then pushed at his shoulder, encouraging him upward. Zhuo Yichen obeyed slowly, taking his hands off and placing them on the bed. He looked about as pathetic as he sounded, and there were tears on his cheeks. He didn't wipe them off. Maybe if he left them, Zhu Yan would see them.
"You still haven't—" Zhuo Yichen said, quietly, shifting uncomfortably. Having second thoughts about being on top?
"Still haven't what?"
He lifted one hand to wipe at his face, a shame. "Nevermind."
If he had a complaint, he would say it. "Say it."
"You just haven't. Kissed me as you." Zhuo Yichen said pitifully.
He could ask for that, as long as he knew it was a favor. "You gave me something," he said, "I'll give you something. Is that what you want? Choose."
Zhuo Yichen's eyes widened and he immediately frowned, considering. He waited as Zhuo Yichen thought through it, looking at Li Lun for bare moments and then looking away. "I want to know what you'll ask of Zhao Yuanzhou," Zhuo Yichen said, finally, "and I— I want to be there for it."
"You think I'll make it into a show for you?" Li Lun asked jeeringly.
Zhuo Yichen didn't register the cruelty in his tone; his face didn't fall as expected. Was it not clear enough? His eyes, wide and wet, kept looking at his lips. "Would you?" he asked, outrageously earnest.
Li Lun swallowed. He hadn't meant to offer that. "That's two things. The knowing and the watching. I said I'd give you one."
Really, Zhuo Yichen had given him two things: both the reenactment of Zhu Yan's kiss as well as the qi he had given him. Luckily, the man was a poor scorekeeper. He only frowned, deep in thought.
"I want to watch," he said with finality.
Fuck. "Fine."
"When?" he asked. Far, far too eager.
Li Lun said nothing, only set him with a scowl. Zhuo Yichen retreated, looking slightly contrite. At least he knew that much. He didn't look away, though— he continued looking down at him like he thought he might get more. Did he want it that badly? His own kiss, not Zhu Yan's? Could he get Zhuo Yichen to say it so Zhu Yan could hear?
"Do you want it that badly?" Li Lun said, voicing the thought.
Zhuo Yichen glanced at his lips again. "You said you'd give me one thing. I chose already."
He really was obedient. Why was it so annoying now? "Tell me how badly you want it and I'll give it to you."
Zhuo Yichen's mouth parted slightly with shock, blinking in confusion. Was it that hard? "Are you asking me to say please?"
No imagination. How long did he think he could skate by on Zhu Yan's methods? "Why don't you try it?"
Zhuo Yichen might have stammered, or recoiled, or rolled his eyes. Maybe he might have, before he'd given him a taste. Now he just stared, as if struck dumb by his own want, and unable to even quake in the tide of it.
He needed a push. Li Lun licked his lips, slow and wet, just to see his eyes track it. Zhuo Yichen swayed forward a bit before stopping himself. "Please," he said. "I want it. From. You." The words were halting and embarrassing. They were also effective.
"On your side," Li Lun said, watching him obey without hesitation. This, with Zhuo Yichen next to him, and not looming above him, was more right.
A kiss from himself, something divorced from Zhu Yan entirely, was a concept that did not exist. But Li Lun could fool him into thinking there was. He spent the moment turning onto his own side, watching as Zhuo Yichen tracked the movement with rapt attention, considering his options. What did Zhuo Yichen expect him to kiss like? Was it better to play into his expectations or subvert them? What would have him coming back for more?
Zhuo Yichen was grabbing a fistful of his sleeve—but not pulling him forward, so he allowed it. Li Lun lifted a thumb and drew it slowly over Zhuo Yichen's lips, considering. How long could he delay before he started begging for it again?
And then, finally, Zhu Yan spoke.
It took you a decade to kiss me. Zhu Yan's voice was quiet and unhurried. Like he was still dozing on the bed where he'd left him, relaxed and unconcerned. If Li Lun hadn't been listening specifically for his voice, he wouldn't have heard it. Not so here, hm?
He sounded— pleased. This made him happy?
The first time Li Lun had kissed Zhu Yan, when he had still been skeptical that such a thing might be pleasurable to a tree at all, he had demanded Zhu Yan to stillness. He'd kissed his mouth, his jaw, his throat— all with the only movement from Zhu Yan being his hair, not even a tinge of white at the time, blowing gently in the wind.
And when he'd used his teeth—he still remembered Zhu Yan's sudden intake of breath. A lucky thing that breathing hadn't counted as breaking Li Lun's stillness rules, or he might have been punished.
To touch was much less complicated than to be touched. This was something he had learned quickly. It occurred to him that he could employ those same rules here. Zhuo Yichen would follow them.
"Stay still," he said firmly, waiting a moment to ensure the words had gotten through to him before leaning forward.
He pressed into him, purposefully and spitefully chaste, similar to the first taste he'd had of Zhu Yan. Zhuo Yichen's lips tensed and relaxed under him jerkily, apparently struggling with the stillness rule. Li Lun found himself smiling and consciously slackened his mouth, retreating only slightly— what inane thing had he said about lips not separating— in order to press chastely against him again. Was he frustrated? He felt Zhuo Yichen's grip tense in the fabric he'd already been holding, but he didn't press forward, didn't grab, didn't whine.
"Obedient," Li Lun said airily into his mouth, only realizing at Zhuo Yichen's small, breathy noise that it was praise. He licked slightly into his mouth in reward, dragging along the underside of Zhuo Yichen's lip, which relaxed to allow him in. Then he drew back, putting distance between them.
Zhuo Yichen made to follow him and then came back to himself, blinking. At Li Lun's unimpressed expression, he shifted awkwardly. "Can I— once? Please?"
Zhu Yan should hear it. "Ask properly."
He made an outraged sound, if outrage could be seen through several layers of arousal. "Is it really necessary to make me ask clearly every time? You know what I…" Zhuo Yichen tried to look at him reproachfully, but it didn't work. Mostly it just looked like he'd freshly stopped crying after being jerked off. "You know what I mean."
Li Lun could simply demand him to beg again. Look at him expectantly until he obeyed. Or: "It's for Zhu Yan," he said dryly.
Zhuo Yichen's face slackened with surprise. "He's listening?" At Li Lun's unchanging expression, he inhaled to speak, stopped, and adopted a little pleased smile. "Um," he said in a small voice, "hi."
Zhuo Yichen was awkwardly silent for a moment, clearly trying to listen for Zhu Yan's response and unable to find it. Li Lun resisted rolling his eyes; Zhu Yan's training was truly horrible.
He let Zhuo Yichen continue to stare at him, embarrassed and slowly gathering the fact that Li Lun wouldn't pass on Zhu Yan's words. He was only cooing at Zhuo Yichen, anyway; there was no need to relay that. Zhuo Yichen would only improve his abilities if he had reason to.
"Are you asking or not?" Li Lun asked sharply.
"Let me." Zhuo Yichen almost lost his nerve. He was squirming more now. He liked it so much? Maybe he really should let Zhu Yan watch. If Zhuo Yichen reacted like this, and if Zhu Yan weren't allowed to touch— "Kiss you," Zhuo Yichen finally finished. "Please?" he added, hastily, at the end. Like it was some spell that would guarantee success.
But if he really wanted to beg for it. "Fine."
Zhuo Yichen was blushing. It reddened his face all the way to the temples. His eyes were teary and his neck was still wet with his own spit. He looked ridiculous.
"I just had your dick in my hand, and this is what you're embarrassed about?"
Zhuo Yichen choked on his own scandalized cough, and then looked unnervingly genuine. "Well, you're. Letting me. Touch."
Not if it took all day. He looked at him impatiently.
Zhuo Yichen's mouth shifted with embarrassment, lips pressing together awkwardly. "And— and you couldn't see my face then."
He had a point; he did look pathetic like this. "Do it or don't do it."
"I'm doing it," Zhuo Yichen said hastily. He visibly schooled himself, reaching up to cup Li Lun's face, and then darting forward quickly, like he was afraid Li Lun might take it back. He pressed in far too hard, nose hitting his awkwardly, angle all wrong. It was a few heartbeats of pressure, of Zhuo Yichen's hand sliding along his jaw, and then he was backing away again. Li Lun looked at him with unimpressed incredulity. Everything he'd just showed him, and he'd learned nothing?
Zhuo Yichen appeared to be too giddy to care about his visible disapproval, smiling and congratulating himself.
"Do I… have to ask permission every time I want to?" Zhuo Yichen asked mousishly.
"Yes," Li Lun said flatly.
"The— the reverse isn't true. You. You can." He appeared to be affected by his own saccharine words, a foolish look in his eye. At least it was working on someone. "When you want."
"Fine." Zhuo Yichen shifted like he might reach forward and then stopped. Li Lun tracked the movement apathetically. Words moved into his throat and stayed there. It was uncomfortable, so he forced them out. "I don't always want to be touched."
"Oh," Zhuo Yichen said, expression opening with curiosity. "Okay."
Luckily Zhuo Yichen kept his questions to himself. Li Lun looked at him stonily.
"You could. Sleep here," Zhuo Yichen said, shameless and calm. He pressed his head harder into the pillow, adjusting. "Beside me."
He'd waited until dawn to snatch him, and he was still sleepy? Did he need a reminder that he wasn't mortal?
"I'm not staying in this wretched place."
Zhuo Yichen frowned like it was some insult. Zhu Yan bought a shitty house, what did that have to do with him? "Is it so bad?"
He scoffed. "For a tree." Not for yao who loved to pretend to be human, apparently.
Zhuo Yichen only looked at him openly. "Will you go back to your willow? Let me go too."
"You just came all over yourself. Wash up instead."
"Don't—" his eyes flashed. If Li Lun were Zhu Yan, he would have pushed at him. "Say that."
He could do it, but Li Lun couldn't say it? He reached over and wiped his cheeks. He was tired of looking at it. "Go."