He takes a moment while basking in the heat of Lan Xichen's mouth to realise he may be in over his head. It isn't the act itself, Wen Kexing has kissed and been kissed all over the Jianghu, greedy with desire wherever he goes and leaving quite the reputation for it. He has not been a blushing virgin in a long, long time. And yet there is something about this moment, out here in the open. Courtesans and prostitutes and the occasional pretty, but drunken honoured young gentlemen do not kiss like this. They do not hold their own, in the face of Wen Kexing's lavish hunger. And so Lan Xichen's confidence is heady, sure of himself and the way of the world around him, lacking any of the vicious frenetic energy that most assertive young men hold in their bones.
Were he younger, or more naïve, Wen Kexing is sure he would have been seething with lustful jealousy the minute he set his eyes upon him. Would he have wanted to be him, or to fuck him, this fine young master? Both, and more, presumably. But he spares only the smallest of thoughts to that starving boy though, too busy watching Lan Xichen's face with dark eyes when they part, his own mouth quirking into something teasing. )
Gusu Lan’s hospitality is certainly unparalleled.
( It is easy to follow Lan Xichen inside, Wen Kexing’s gaze devouring the shape of his back and waist as he does so. Any other time he might have been curious at the state of the rooms inside, but for now all of him is focused on one thing. Wen Kexing makes no attempt to hide that he was looking when caught, grin turning lecherous in response as he carefully tucks his fan back into his sleeves, stepping forward to close the space between them once more. He knows, vaguely, that he is absolutely breaking several societal rules by even daring to be near the Chief Cultivator, let alone with the intent he has. He knows, and doesn’t care. Rules are for mortal people, ghosts have no need to heed them.
A sigh falls from his lips, airy and light as he settles a hand at Lan Xichen’s waist, tucking long fingers behind the fabric of his sash )
Why don’t you let me thank you?
( He tugs, ever so slightly, on his grip at the sash before his own body sways forward, capturing Lan Xichen’s mouth in a kiss once more. This time, Wen Kexing lets his own heat simmer behind it, a warm tongue dragging over the plush and pretty bow of the other man’s lips, daring to slip inside when they part. A free hand settles on the other side of a sinfully shaped waist, holding him still so that Wen Kexing can press ever closer, a pleased hum falling from him at all that well-muscled resistance. )
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He takes a moment while basking in the heat of Lan Xichen's mouth to realise he may be in over his head. It isn't the act itself, Wen Kexing has kissed and been kissed all over the Jianghu, greedy with desire wherever he goes and leaving quite the reputation for it. He has not been a blushing virgin in a long, long time. And yet there is something about this moment, out here in the open. Courtesans and prostitutes and the occasional pretty, but drunken honoured young gentlemen do not kiss like this. They do not hold their own, in the face of Wen Kexing's lavish hunger. And so Lan Xichen's confidence is heady, sure of himself and the way of the world around him, lacking any of the vicious frenetic energy that most assertive young men hold in their bones.
Were he younger, or more naïve, Wen Kexing is sure he would have been seething with lustful jealousy the minute he set his eyes upon him. Would he have wanted to be him, or to fuck him, this fine young master? Both, and more, presumably. But he spares only the smallest of thoughts to that starving boy though, too busy watching Lan Xichen's face with dark eyes when they part, his own mouth quirking into something teasing. )
Gusu Lan’s hospitality is certainly unparalleled.
( It is easy to follow Lan Xichen inside, Wen Kexing’s gaze devouring the shape of his back and waist as he does so. Any other time he might have been curious at the state of the rooms inside, but for now all of him is focused on one thing. Wen Kexing makes no attempt to hide that he was looking when caught, grin turning lecherous in response as he carefully tucks his fan back into his sleeves, stepping forward to close the space between them once more. He knows, vaguely, that he is absolutely breaking several societal rules by even daring to be near the Chief Cultivator, let alone with the intent he has. He knows, and doesn’t care. Rules are for mortal people, ghosts have no need to heed them.
A sigh falls from his lips, airy and light as he settles a hand at Lan Xichen’s waist, tucking long fingers behind the fabric of his sash )
Why don’t you let me thank you?
( He tugs, ever so slightly, on his grip at the sash before his own body sways forward, capturing Lan Xichen’s mouth in a kiss once more. This time, Wen Kexing lets his own heat simmer behind it, a warm tongue dragging over the plush and pretty bow of the other man’s lips, daring to slip inside when they part. A free hand settles on the other side of a sinfully shaped waist, holding him still so that Wen Kexing can press ever closer, a pleased hum falling from him at all that well-muscled resistance. )