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Lukai Hwei was a late bloomer in every sense of the word.
Not many things came to him naturally, despite what his status may have implied. For the first few years of his life, he had been entirely silent, only taught to speak once he had been enrolled in his schooling with a therapist. His adolescence hit him later than other students at the temple, leaving him hormonal and awkward when his peers had already grown into their skin. While others spent their late teens indulging in passionate romance, Hwei kept to his room, insisting time and time again that he wasn’t ready for that kind of connection with someone. At times, it felt like the only thing he was good for was his artistic vision, his ability to inspire others with his work.
Now, at thirty, things were no different.
People his age were already well-acquainted with their bodies, as far as Hwei was aware. He’d been given a talk of what felt like an eternity ago by Master Liu, delivered with just about as much tact as one would expect out of an emotionally distant mentor, far too withdrawn to ever call himself a father to Hwei. There was a natural cycle to the way bodies worked, and the importance of this was emphasized time-and-time again as the heir to Koyehn Conservatory. Yet, as months turned into years with no major sign of change, the young man became worried that he was incapable of such a thing. His masters were desperate to ensure a continuation to the bloodline – glorified playdates with suitable peers, all of which felt terribly contrived. The farthest he’d gone left him feeling isolated, uncomfortable and with no outlet to express himself..
That must have made this recent development all the more shocking.
A quiet click of the lock helped soothe Hwei’s heavy mind. The heir had holed himself up in his bedroom, late now into the evening, hiding amongst his abandoned canvases and unfinished projects. A candle flickered in the corner of the room, far too oppressive with its heat against his clammy skin. He’d tried to paint in a studio earlier in the day, but Hwei was becoming intimately aware of why his hormones had been emphasized so heavily to him.
Handle yourself. Process these feelings on your own. Maybe illustrate them.
As he sat himself down in bed, the way the soft material brushed against his hands made him shudder. Every little sensation, from the breeze of the cracked window to the shift of silk against his chest, felt like hands grazing over his skin. His muscles were perpetually tensed, and his nerves felt completely exposed, breathing in the hot air of the room.
This was normal for a heat?
Every moment felt like it was mounting on top of itself. What was a vague discomfort earlier this morning now left him feverish and painfully sensitive, threatening to burn him alive. He laid back onto his bed, allowing himself to sink into a collection of every soft item he could scavenge from his room, too dizzy to keep himself upright. The way his body fell into the quilts and pillows was a substantial comfort, at the very least; it was like the mattress was swallowing him whole, cradling him in place and comforting him through this unbearable feeling in his core.
Hwei shut his eyes, rolling over in bed onto his stomach. Blankets filled in the space between his legs, and he sucked in a hot breath at the pressure, wincing at just how clearly he could feel the slick down his thighs. His pants clung awkwardly to his skin with sweat, only working to make him warmer. He scrunched up his nose in distaste as his hips stuttered, craving some friction; it was par for the course, but he loathed just how strongly he could smell himself.
Quickly, he was falling victim to his body’s needs. His head pressed down into a crevice between his pillows as his hips jolted again, muffling an odd sense of shame bubbling up in his throat. He knew that it was harmful to hole himself up like this, huddled in his room, but it was necessary. The reason why this was happening in the first place felt like an inky stain over his consciousness, filling him with a contradictory sense of dread and excitement.
Jhin.
With his eyes shut, Hwei felt over the side of the bed, twitching as his fingers caught onto leather. He tugged a small piece of fabric close, pulling it up to his face and covering his mouth. A deep inhale forced out a shiver; a warm, rich scent flooded his senses, leaving his head light and dizzy. It was like he was surrounded by Jhin’s scent, completely overwhelming him and warming him to his core. He could feel the blood moving inside him, pooling in his gut.
In retrospect, he should have felt guilty for snagging the glove from the guest’s luggage, but he just couldn’t help himself. The small bit of sense left in Hwei knew this was wrong, but if he couldn’t have Jhin, he wanted to at least entertain the idea.
As he took another breath in, slowly, his hips rolled forward into the bed. It took him out of his conscious state for a moment, thrusting him into a vibrant vision of exactly what he wanted. His legs spread, filled up until he couldn’t breathe. Each thought was immediately followed by a suffocating, purple shame, disgusted by just how vivid his thoughts were. The two of them had spent plenty of time together, but to think that he could have been imprinted on, or something of that sort, was mortifying.
Earlier that week, the two of them had been sharing an afternoon out together. They were both cast in shadows of the winding wood of the gallery, appreciating a traveling display in the way it shone in the sunlight. As Jhin turned to address a particularly commanding piece, though, Hwei’s eyes were nowhere near the canvas.
Like this, under the summer sun, oppressive in its intensity, the visionary could make out every curve to his back. The tight fit of the fuschia top left very little to the imagination, he realized; he could trace the way his muscular definition disappeared under the top, then connected to his shoulder blades. His waist was small, but firm, evident of an athletic background. He wondered just how strong those arms were.
As a light breeze swept down the hallway, Hwei’s breathing stammered, taking in the scent of the other man for the first time. He couldn’t remember his sweat ever being so appealing, let alone apparent. His thighs tensed at the thought, cursing himself for acknowledging such a thing.
When Jhin turned, Hwei was already looking away, down the hall at a collection of tourists. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, pretending he hadn’t heard Jhin’s question — his thoughts were elsewhere.
This wasn’t right.
But that was the point of this, wasn’t it? To lock himself away, to rid himself of these desires. As he reminisced on that sight of Jhin from behind, on the way his muscles would curve when he referenced a part of the painting, on the way leather would cling and shine against his skin, he could almost feel Jhin’s presence next to him. Like the mattress’ weight would shift, and the older man could watch as Hwei rutted into blankets between his legs, huffing out hot, empty air into his pillows. He could imagine the artist’s firm hands on his hips, pushing him down harder into the bed.
His delirium only lasted for so long. Those distant, vague feelings grew into something much more real when he heard a creak from his bedframe. A gentle graze of manicured fingers brushed across his forehead, brushing back some unkempt, damp hair behind his ear.
“Poor thing.”
No, that wasn’t what Jhin said to him in that hall. His expression implied it, but he knew better than to be so crass in public. He was more reserved, more dismissive with his words, not quite so obvious. So then why did everything feel so real? It was like he was enveloped in Jhin’s scent, too close for comfort. A deep breath in made his core throb, and he winced, pulling back from the feeling.
And then his eyes opened.
Though his vision was a blur, clouded with all sorts of colors, everything felt so clear. Long, firm fingers were running down his scalp, lightly scratching him with his nails. The pressure shot down his spine and tingled at the end of his limbs, forcing him to tense considerably. The arm attached to the hand led to a familiar face, taking him in.
Jhin.
Why was he…
Belatedly doubling over in shock, Hwei rolled onto his side, trying to focus on the man sitting at the edge of the bed. He was panting hard and fast, still running off the high of trying to relieve himself, but shocked with a cold sobriety of being caught. And when his eyes eventually did stabilize themselves, granting him a clearer image than just the cold red to Jhin’s eyes, he was —
smiling.
Jhin’s smile was particular, and there wasn’t just one type. There was the kind of smile he wore for conversations, the one meant to appease a crowd and shake hands with strangers. It was unnervingly normal, almost uncanny in its artificiality, and Hwei could see right through it. That wasn’t what faced him now, though. When Jhin truly did show his true mood, in brief, fleeting moments, he looked far more cruel. His dead eyes would betray themselves with a small glint, and his lips would pull up asymmetrically, reading more as a smirk. It was sadistic and unfeeling, yet remarkably expressive, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It felt like he was sizing up his prey.
“… You shouldn’t be here.”
Hwei wasn’t sure why those were the first words out of his mouth. A better approach would have been why are you here, or how did you get in? He had too many questions to count all, bouncing around in his mind, leaving him too dizzy to think. He was suddenly too self-aware of the slick sticking down his legs, squeezing his bony thighs together in shame.
Jhin could smell his depravity, couldn’t he? That thought was nauseating.
“Oh, and why not?” Jhin questioned, willfully ignorant. His tone was light and airy, and Hwei knew exactly what he was doing.
Hwei’s jaw set in place, trying to calm his trembling. The low rumble of Jhin’s voice reverberated through the back of his mind, traveling down his spine and warming his chest. “I have… to isolate, Jhin,” he whispered, each word heavy and breathy like he was trying to convince himself, “I’m not used to…”
Jhin’s grin widened, brushing out a knot in Hwei’s hair with his fingertips. The light sting was enough to pull out a whine, pooling heat into his gut.
“It’s quite alright,” he whispered, tapping his cheekbone lightly with his thumb. “Usually, if someone wants to be left alone, they lock the door.”
Hwei’s breathing stammered, losing some of his embarrassment to honest confusion. His mind was muddied by a thick fog, but he distinctly remembered… –
Jhin leaned in closer, lurching over the leaner man with a creak of the bed. Hwei could feel Jhin’s breath against his skin, tickling his face from where it was left exposed from the tangle of blankets. His hand rested on the side of Hwei’s face, gently rubbing his thumb into the hollow of the other man’s cheek. The sensation was maddening.
“Does it hurt? I can stop it, if that’s what you need.”
What?
This progression made sense, and yet it swept the painter off his feet. Jhin had wound up in his room like he belonged there, seemingly unfazed by the way Hwei was fucking into the bed. His breathing was low and slow, presumably taking in the way Hwei smelled in the midst of his heat. All physical signs pointed towards Jhin being interested in Hwei, and yet Hwei couldn’t fathom it at all. He stared ahead at him, his jaw slack in awe.
“What?” Jhin quipped, giving an easy, lopsided smile. He felt too vulnerable under that look. “If you would rather suffer, please; help yourself. I must say, though—“
Jhin’s grip on Hwei’s jaw tightened, moving his head so it would angle to look directly at him. His voice lowered to a whisper, reminding Hwei of the way he would be spoken to when scolded by his superiors.
“— this isn’t a very becoming look for an heir.”
Jhin’s tone shifted subtly to one of judgment. Hwei suddenly felt like he was under a pair of prying eyes, and he shifted awkwardly under his blankets, paradoxically all the more excited. His sex was practically burning through his pants, made impossibly more uncomfortable with the layers of blankets and quilts he’d tangled himself in. Jhin’s voice dripped with a certain intention, holding a dark desire Hwei wanted to explore. It reminded him of those brief moments alone where Jhin would speak of something forbidden, where he would dare to challenge everything Hwei ever knew.
Silence, then:
“I’ve never felt this before,” Hwei blurted out without thinking, doubling over in regret the moment those words passed his lips. A purple shame took him over in an instant, paired with the sharp pain of his cheek between his teeth. He knew it made him look like an absolute fool, but Jhin was the only person he’d ever known to listen to his plights and help shoulder them. He made Hwei feel understood to a dangerous extent; couldn’t he rely on him here too?
Jhin’s eyes sparked in interest — evidently, he hadn’t expected that.
“Never?” Jhin purred, trailing his hand down from Hwei’s jaw, to his neck, to the edge of one of the blankets. Hwei squirmed awkwardly as Jhin pulled it back, relieving some of the suffocating heat he was trapped in. “Oh, sweetheart… you must be dying in there. How does it feel?”
Jhin did this often, though usually in less compromising circumstances. The stagehand was obsessed with Hwei’s perspective on things — art, food, tragedy… If anything of note happened, he wanted to hear Hwei’s opinion, no matter how long-winded or unimportant. Hwei swallowed thickly, wincing at the way it stung his throat. Even breathing felt impossibly hot, like he was being violated deep into his lungs.
“… It hurts,” Hwei tried, speaking more meekly than he would have liked. He shied back when Jhin pulled back the first blanket, but he didn’t fight him — a part of him hoped Jhin would keep going.
“Oh, come now. There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Jhin chuckled, feeling up the side of Hwei’s throat after exposing more of his bony chest. Hwei struggled aimlessly under his touch, desperately rubbing his thighs together under the covers. “You’re an artist. Tell me more.”
Thoroughly humiliated, Hwei nodded. There certainly was more.
“It’s… so warm,” he clarified, even quieter than before. Jhin’s hands were idly working at the layers of covers, pulling away at the blankets and exposing more of his panting chest underneath. “I-it’s like I’m sick, like… I might pass out. Like my body is about to catch flame. I can’t stop this ache down my legs, up my spine... It’s absolute torture.”
Jhin chuckled, leaning in so his lips were close enough to breathe over Hwei’s ear. The hand on his neck left a ghost of pressure, threatening to squeeze.
“You don’t know how to handle your heat at all, do you? The way you’re trembling, it’s like you’re afraid it might kill you.”
Silently, Hwei nodded. The absurdity of Jhin’s shamelessness was lost on him here — his body was crying out for any form of relief, and Jhin’s rich, rosy scent was doing something terrible to him.
Jhin smiled wider, and though Hwei couldn’t see it, he could hear it in his voice. “Dear… Why are you so intent on handling it alone?”
Hwei winced, biting his lower lip in discomfort. He felt pinned, both proverbially and literally. “This isn’t proper,” he answered after a moment’s time.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because…” A beat of silence, one only filled by both of their heavy breathing. “… I’m meant to inherit this place. This isn’t about me. I-if I do mate, it’s… supposed to be with… someone approved…”
Jhin laughed, pulling off the last of the blankets that separated them. Hwei’s hips squirmed against the bed, unable to keep still.
“Such an important boy you are,” Jhin tsked, his eyes roving down Hwei’s covered, quivering body. “Have your masters picked out a suitable alpha for you, then? Someone obedient to them, to their cause, who can breed you and soothe you through all of this?”
Hwei felt like he might just fizzle out. His head pressed to the side, trying to hide himself in his pillow in shame. “They’ve tried,” he admitted, grappling with a complex knot of shame.
Jhin’s lips pressed into Hwei’s ear, tickling his burning skin with the way he spoke.
“But you don’t want that, now do you?”
It wasn’t what Hwei wanted at all, and the painter’s heart fluttered at the way Jhin acknowledged this. Hands ended up on his sides, and Hwei’s breath sucked in hot, the exposed portion of his abdomen rippling in excitement. He shook his head no in affirmation, too overwhelmed to speak as Jhin’s hands worked at his clothing, pulling his undone robe over his hot, clammy skin. The way the cold air of the room hit his chest left him feverish, and he followed the older man’s lead with an excited shiver as his shirt was completely removed.
Though dazed for a moment, Hwei caught onto the way Jhin brought the fabric up to his own face. Lewdly, he pressed it into his nose and mouth, taking a deep, indulgent breath of the sweat-soaked cotton. Hwei’s thighs rubbed together at the sight, watching in awe as Jhin took in his scent so shamelessly.
“… You truly are in heat,” Jhin mumbled, less confident than before. A vague tremble in his voice betrayed his persona, painting him as someone more eager than he led others to believe. Just as quickly as it came, though, it was gone. Setting the shirt aside, Jhin’s gaze moved back down, catching onto something particular.
“Oh, dear…” A smirk paired with a spark in his eyes once more.
Hands starting at Hwei’s shoulders made their way down to his bony chest. Hwei squirmed and pulled back as he was cupped there, wincing at how sensitive he had become. With the hormones wracking through his body, his flat chest had grown into something slightly, but noticeably larger — his pectorals resembled a small pair of breasts, paired with swollen, flushed nipples. He scowled in realization, trying to hide his humiliation.
When Jhin pinched one of Hwei’s nipples between his fingers, testing for sensitivity, Hwei couldn’t hold back a whine. A spark of sensitivity shot up his spine, and he raised his arms in embarrassment, crossing his hands over his face to hide his expression. His body felt so sensitive, and every reaction bordered on pain.
“So sensitive, Hwei.”
Hwei’s hand pulled away from one eye, fixing Jhin with a look behind his fingers.
“I don’t usually look like this,” he explained quietly, swallowing down his nerves. “They’re… bigger now. I-I don’t —“
Jhin hummed, squeezing one of his breasts with a hand as a means to cut the painter’s words short. Hwei sucked in hot, closing his eyes again. He worried his lower lip with his teeth as he was massaged there for a moment, played with like a toy.
“They suit you,” Jhin commented quietly, more of a clinical observation than a compliment. His tone always made everything so unclear, but even with Hwei’s blurry eyes half-blocked by the pillow he hid in, he could see the way Jhin’s eyes clouded over with want. Though he would never admit it, Hwei’s heat was affecting him too.
That thought made Hwei’s heart flutter.
Jhin’s hands roved down, passing by Hwei’s lithe torso and grazing fingers over his protruding ribs. Hwei’s hips lifted into the movement, hardly able to control himself as fingers hooked around his lower robes, stripping him with ease. He hissed out a sigh, his jaw still left agape as his clothing was tugged down, leaving him fully exposed under Jhin’s eye.
Hwei’s legs spread without thinking. He should have had far more shame, but something about Jhin’s smell was clouding his mind, distracting him with the other man’s budding excitement. All he knew that he wanted to do was put an end to this incessant aching, and Jhin insisted he had the answer to just that.
Two fingers slid down from the base of his pelvis, gliding over him easily with the help of his slick. His cock was caught between Jhin’s fingers, teasingly squeezed, and Hwei threw his head back with more gusto than intended as a shiver ran up his back. He whined loudly, bringing his hands up to his face, and he whimpered as Jhin continued his assault there for a moment more. He must have been testing to see all the noises Hwei could make.
“Such a beautiful voice,” Jhin rasped as if to affirm Hwei’s thought, looking down between hislegs, down to his slick-soaked thighs. “A word of caution, though: the temple can hear you.”
Hwei nodded into the blankets, only vaguely aware of this shame. He whimpered at the feeling of Jhin’s fingers slipping downward, ghosting over his aching entrance. He didn’t know what he looked like, but by the way Jhin paused over it, ghosting his hand, it must have been distracting. He felt so open and empty, like he was gaping around nothing, and it felt terrible.
“… Let’s see just how…”
Before Jhin could finish his thought, two fingers pressed against his cunt, and Hwei’s body practically pulled him in. A rush of blood to his ears left him momentarily deaf, and Hwei’s panting increased tenfold, biting desperately at the thumb pressed against his lips. Jhin was able to sink down to his knuckle with ease, and Hwei’s hips shook in place, dissatisfied with the size.
It wasn’t enough for him. He needed more. He knew Jhin had more.
“Please,” Hwei breathed out, shuddering as Jhin’s fingers pulled out after a test. He was ignored for a moment, and Hwei could feel a third, then a fourth finger added inside, paired with a quiet mumble of each number under Jhin’s breath. He begged again, quieter this time, struggling to relax his body under Jhin’s hands. A quiet hush was soothing as he whimpered, struggling around the circumference of Jhin’s knuckles.
“I… I want…” Hwei started, but his voice failed him, fading off into nothing. Cold eyes perked up at that, eyeing Hwei with an intense interest.
“What is it that you want?” Jhin asked, and his words carried a surprising amount of weight. It felt like he was asking Hwei about more than just now.
Hwei’s lip quivered, grappling between his intense need for relief and his deep, ugly shame.
“… I want, mmn,” a heavy sigh, and he lost his place in his sentence. It was growing difficult to parse much at all. Hwei squinted, his jaw twitching as Jhin’s fingers pulled out. “… Mate me, please…”
Jhin paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. Hwei didn’t know if it was his bluntness that caught Jhin off guard, but his calm confidence faltered. If Hwei felt any more optimistic, it almost felt like he was flustered, more excited by that request than he was willing to let on.
Eventually, though, Jhin’s composure and focus returned with a smile. That same, snide look settled on his face, looking at Hwei like he was something to be studied.
“Not as poetic as I would have put it, but I would be honored, my heir.”
Jhin had no idea what he was doing, and he was convinced that Hwei could tell.
Through the two months they’d spent together, Jhin had to come to terms with the fact that Hwei was something irresistible. A new perspective on his work, a worthwhile face in a sea of mediocrity, and a beautiful face at that. Even as he looked down at the painter, wincing so sweetly at the way Jhin pressed his thighs into his chest, he had to acknowledge it as so. Jhin was never one to be partial towards appearance; symmetry was so boring, and the idea of conventional attractiveness went against everything his art stood for.
Even still, there was something so hauntingly attractive about Hwei. His eyes were so sunken and dark, framing a world of color and emotion within his irises. His facial structure was almost statuesque, so uniquely androgynous. His hair, now damp and stuck to his skin with sweat, added a beautiful contrast of asymmetry to his otherwise simplistic appearance.
Jhin didn’t like the way this all made him feel. It was far too vulnerable, and it was far too human.
Perhaps it was Hwei’s fault, Jhin mused as his own sash dropped to the mess of blankets below them both. His cock hung hard and heavy between his legs, aching to itself as his eyes landed between Hwei’s legs again. He’d known the heir was an omega for quite some time now, but anyone within the right mind of his status would have had his cycles under control by now. Hwei was panting and whining like he’d never taken a suppressant in his life, and his smell was causing a lapse in Jhin’s better judgment. He would have never done something like this on his own – he felt no desire to dominate, to mate with anyone. He was above this.
So why was Hwei so different?
Hwei’s smell was deep in his lungs, coating both his throat and mind. It was natural and warm, like the beaches and wood-lined halls he spent much of his time in. All summer he could ascribe that to him, note it in passing, but his heat made it thick in the air. It was in his clothes, on his skin, in the bed…
Jhin was a slave to his compulsions, and, in that moment, this was just another one of them.
“... Please, just…”
Jhin’s eyes focused again, taking in the way Hwei squirmed under him. His legs were spread and pressed up to his chest, forced to stretch with Jhin’s body laying into him. Jhin grabbed at his own cock, embarrassingly hard for such minimal attention, and pressed it against Hwei.
“Patience, sweetheart.”
All Jhin had to do was press his weight down into Hwei. He told himself this, but his hips still stuttered, awkwardly setting into place. If Hwei had been of his right mind, he would have been able to piece together Jhin’s inexperience so easily.
He was lucky Hwei had no one to compare him to.
Slowly, his length sunk in with ease, enveloping him in a warmth he was more unfamiliar with than he’d ever admit. It was unfathomably hot, and though Hwei’s body had naturally dilated itself to accept an alpha’s cock inside, the tightness from his inexperience felt like it was choking him. It was a wonderful constrictive force, reminiscent of his own personal preferences.
Hwei, on the other hand, seemed barely cognizant enough to take in much at all. His jaw hung open, choking out a long, disjointed moan in segments as Jhin’s length touched him further and further inside. The virtuoso could feel each time Hwei’s body tensed and then promptly relaxed, trying to coax more of him inside, just slowly enough for Jhin to savor each inch.
He was struggling, but he was willing, and he was doing so, so well.
“Wonderful,” Jhin rasped, grinding his hips in place to steady himself inside. Even rocking himself in place was enough for Hwei’s legs to kick and twitch, paired with a bright flash of pink in his eyes. It was endearing, just how emotive he could be. “Precisely… like this. A-all you have to do is relax.”
A bounce of his hips began a steady, slow pace between them both. A quiet moan was punched out of Hwei’s chest each time he sunk back in, accompanied by a loud, wet slap of skin against skin. Even if the painter hadn’t been moaning, he was wet enough to make enough noise for them both. Hwei’s bony hips were pressed into each time, encouraging Jhin with a dull spike of pain, and, before long, Jhin’s slow and measured pace devolved into something more hurried and indulgent.
He really was better than this, Jhin thought to himself as he fucked in again, digging his elbows needily into the blankets below. Doing this brought him and the painter closer together, and wasn’t that good enough of a reason? So that Hwei could attach himself to his side, so that Jhin could open his heart and learn everything he ever cared to know about him? This wasn’t about Jhin. It never was. It was for his work, for his craft.
That’s what he wanted to tell himself, at least. Jhin was ripped out of his thoughts as arms laced around his neck, tugging him close to Hwei’s face. He was already inside of him, but being so much closer made his smell impossibly more potent, fogging his mind with sweat and heat further and further. Each passing moment he spent here made Hwei look more appealing, more like someone he wanted to press into the bed, to knot and breed. His cock ached at the thought, spurred on by a vulnerable whine from the younger man.
“Jhin…” Hwei mumbled, and Jhin’s neck was tugged downward, closer to him. He was brought so impossibly close to his lips, and Jhin tried his best not to fixate on them, but something about the hot air being puffed out between his teeth was irresistible. He pressed his hips in particularly hard and closed their distance, pecking a short, sweet kiss against his lips.
Why had he done that?
Hwei smiled softly at him, looking at Jhin with a warmth in his eyes he didn’t deserve. The encouragement only prompted Jhin to move faster, to rut into him harder, to fold Hwei’s legs harder into his chest. An assortment of whines and moans fell from the painter’s throat with a nod, holding him close in a vice grip. Any apprehensions he may have had were completely unraveled by then, thrown to the wind in favor of his desire.
“P-please… more, Jhin, I —“ He choked, gasping in his face, “mate me, please, deeper — breed me—“
This was far too intimate. Each word that tumbled out of Hwei’s mouth brought the two of them together, and Jhin loathed just how much he was enjoying it. It didn’t feel like him. His face flushed hot at just how crude Hwei’s words were, clawing desperately into his shoulders to get more of him. Jhin’s confidence faltered, and his hips stammered as he struggled to respond, unsure of how to approach just how shameless Hwei was being.
After a beat of silence, filled only by their panting, Jhin decided that the best way to approach it was by not giving him an answer at all.
Jhin pulled out of Hwei abruptly, coaxing a long, anguished sigh out of the thinner man. Hwei desperately tried to cling onto Jhin as he pulled back, but his attempts were cut short as Jhin’s hands firmly planted on his hips. Suddenly, and with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, Jhin flipped Hwei over in bed onto his chest. A hand between his shoulderblades secured him in place as his hips were hiked up, forcing Hwei into a shallow arch. He squirmed, trying to re-adjust himself and regain some composure, but Jhin didn’t give him a chance. He slid back in, hissing out a sigh at just how much deeper he could reach.
With renewed vigor, Jhin continued the same pace as before. The way their hips met like this was somehow louder, their bodies meeting in time with Hwei’s shameless whimpering and moaning. The temple was so quiet at this hour – Jhin was beginning to believe the sounds of them fucking would travel into the halls, spelling out exactly what the heir was doing within the confines of his room.
Feeling a hot rush of excitement hit him, Jhin reached down, taking his hand and pressing it into the back of Hwei’s skull. His head was shoved into the layers of blankets below him, muffling his crying and whining into the bed. The sound was pleasant, oddly enough; Jhin smiled indulgently at the way Hwei gasped and sputtered, trying to pull his head out to keep himself from being smothered.
So cute.
“With the way you sound, it… it’s like you want to be heard,” Jhin mocked, smiling wildly from behind. Without eyes on him, he felt far less inclined to keep his composure. The poor boy was so far gone, anyhow – Jhin wondered if Hwei was trying to look at him at all, or if this was just one big blur to him. “Should the temple hear their heir? Is that it?”
“Mmmnnn…”
Hwei’s body writhed and struggled, but never quite fought to break free. His spine twisted as his shoulders readjusted himself, and the bare, sweat-slicked skin of his pale back was left exposed from his long hair. Jhin’s eyes caught onto the tensing muscle of his neck, and his teeth ached, urging him to do something he knew was a terrible idea. It distracted him, causing a stutter in his steady thrusts.
Ever a slave to his compulsions, he knew he couldn’t resist. His breath hitched as he leaned down, grinding his cock deeper inside as he buried his face into Hwei’s shoulder. A deep, choppy breath was all he could manage before Hwei’s smell filled his senses again, and he gripped harshly onto the back of Hwei’s head, opening his mouth –
The first thing Jhin heard was Hwei’s cry, and he couldn’t tell if it was one of ecstasy or agony. His teeth sunk deep into the painter’s skin, not enough to pull blood, but certainly enough to break skin. Hwei’s voice, pitched-up and desperate, served only as encouragement; he stayed there for a moment, grinding his teeth in deeper and indulging in the way the other man would whimper.
He didn’t fight him; he never fought him. Even through his shame, Jhin could tell Hwei wanted this more than anything. And who was he to deny the heir everything he ever wanted?
“... J–... Jhin…”
When he finally dislodged his teeth, time started ticking again. The rushing of blood in his ears stopped, and Hwei’s whimpering calmed, though never died out. His hips were trembling, aching for something more through his fucking, and Jhin couldn’t even think before his mouth moved of its own accord.
“You know what comes next, do you not?” He whispered hotly, leaning closer to Hwei’s ear. His breath tickled the painter’s bare skin, and he didn’t respond, but his breathing stammered over itself. “You – you can feel it, can’t you? Do you want it?”
A knot was the ultimate act of possession, far too vulnerable for someone like Jhin, but the high of marking Hwei already made him feel like he’d sunk too much into this to pull back now. All he could picture was the vivid image of Hwei stuck on his cock, trying and failing to pull free, squirming uselessly into the bed and clawing at his sheets for comfort. He waited expectantly for Hwei to respond, to beg for him again, to ask for exactly what Jhin was offering, but all the poor boy did was whine. Jhin’s breathing hitched in his throat, and he pressed in deeper, nearly flattening Hwei into the bed.
“My knot, Hwei. Tell me exactly what you need.”
Hwei twitched, and that alone told Jhin that he could hear him. His face was pressed into the side of the bed, drooling freely as a fresh bruise bloomed below his neck. Their eyes met, and Jhin bore witness to the addictingly hot pink of his eyes; that in itself felt like the initiation he was looking for.
“... Mmh… Jh –” Hwei choked, and his cunt twitched needily around Jhin. He must have been so sore. “Want… y–”
Jhin couldn’t stand this feeling; even his own patience had its limits. Each pulse of the other man around him felt like it was milking his spend out, begging him silently to do what they both clearly wanted. Unable to restrain himself, Jhin’s hands met Hwei’s hips and sharply pulled him back, connecting them together so hard Jhin was convinced they both would bruise. An overwhelming pressure took him over in a wave, and he laid his full weight into Hwei, crushing him properly into the bed.
The virtuoso rarely indulged in these things. Sexual satisfaction felt barbaric and distant, something he never quite understood outside the context of his niche interests. The sensation of his knot forming inside of Hwei, then, was something entirely unfamiliar to him. He gasped in hot, thick air as his cock pulsed in place, twitching and emptying himself out as he anchored himself inside. It was like the two of them were one, and, disgustingly, Jhin didn’t loathe the idea.
The rush of it all left the vulnerability more as an after-effect, a delayed reaction. By the time Jhin had fully realized what he’d done, his hands were wrapped possessively around Hwei, moaning lowly into his neck as his knot swelled to its full size. Hwei’s breathing was as erratic as his movements, choking and squirming around Jhin’s cock stretching him past what he thought he was capable of. “Shhh… e-easy, Hwei…” Jhin soothed, hugging him tighter. The two of them were joined in a sweet agony, and their bodies shared in that same ache as Jhin’s orgasm peaked, beginning a slow, but steady decline back into composure.
He hadn’t caught exactly when Hwei started to cry. As his eyes focused once more, he caught first onto the hot, pigmented streaks of tears running down Hwei’s face. The painter’s mouth was stuck open, and his eyes were half-shut in a daze, riding the bliss of precisely what his body had been begging for. On impulse, Jhin tried to pull back, but the two of them both gasped and whined as their bodies resisted the movement.
Right.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Jhin bit down his quickly returning sense of rationale. Keeping his weight atop Hwei, he rose one hand, tucking a loose lock of hair behind one of his ears. Even like this, fucked out of his mind and sniffling into his blankets, Hwei looked exquisite – something about his misery was so enticing.
“... I… I’m… very fond of… you,” Hwei panted between breaths, closing his eyes. He looked dizzy, struggling to find words in his spinning mind. “I-I’ve been… please – stay.”
Jhin hadn’t the slightest clue what the weight was of Hwei’s request to stay. For now, for the summer, for eternity – all of it felt so trivial in the moment, left transfixed by the connection between them both. It was like they were tethered to the soul, drinking in each other’s emotions. With the nature of Hwei’s work, Jhin wondered just how much of that was true.
His lip twitched as he leaned in, pressing a kiss into the turn of Hwei’s jaw. He breathed out a tired laugh into Hwei’s neck, soothing his side with a supportive hand, more like a pet than a touch.
“How sweet you are.”