[He accepts the drink, refraining from the urge to cough at the burn of it in his throat. The alcohol here was much stronger than the wines back home and he’d yet to grow used to it.
He wonders how much of his pleasure in being denominate over them had to do with the power and how much of it had to do with it being, well, them. Or even just Meng Yao specifically. Was it power and domination for power and domination’s sake alone, or was it having Meng Yao on his knees?
He’s not sure he wants to ask and he takes another drink.] I feel you have little to fear of that happening. I don’t think I’d be able to let you go so easily either. [His confession is quiet, expression distant as he thinks about it.]
[Huaisang draws him down onto the couch, hooking his legs over Meng Yao's lap and snuggling close to him.] Is there something in particular you wanted today, A-Yao, or did you come to discuss your progress?
[He expects that this praise and emotional vulnerability is working up to asking some kind of favor. Intimate though their relationship has become, Huaisang doesn't think it's in any way an unselfish relationship. He doesn't believe that Meng Yao would come to him just out of the desire to see him.]
[Shockingly, Meng Yao hasn’t come to ask anything of Huaisang. At least, not like this. His brow furrows a little because again he can feel the cracks in something inside of him, growing like the lines of a spider’s web.
His hand touches one smooth leg and he shivers a little, slowly shaking his head.] I came... simply to show my appreciation. [He moves Huaisang’s legs aside to sink to his knees on the floor, looking hesitant and uncertain.
It was one thing, after all, to give himself up to Huaisang because the rules of this society and their contract dictated it be so. It was another entirely to do so by himself, because he wanted to and he seemed mildly terrified by the implications there.]
[Huaisang lets Meng Yao shift him, blinking curiously as Meng Yao kneels before him. He parts his legs so that Meng Yao can get as close as he wants, bending forward to study his face. He can see how nervous Meng Yao is, which doesn't make sense. They've done this before. Huaisang has gotten used to having Meng Yao at his side and in his space, working together with him in his office on administrative tasks either for Huaisang's business, the temple, or the investment and financials that they both like so much.
Though he doesn't understand why Meng Yao is nervous, he understands that he is. Leaning forward, Huaisang lifts Meng Yao's face in both hands, claiming his lips for a warm, generous kiss.]
[The kiss helps, somehow. It grounds him and makes him sigh softly, titling his head up to kiss him back. He lets his hands rest on Huaisang’s legs, slowly dragging them up his thighs and then back down, just feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingertips.
When he breaks the kiss his eyes are slightly hazy, but his expression calmer and more content as they often became during these moments when he knew he could put thought aside to focus in on the moment. So he lowers his head to nuzzle against Huaisang’s leg, then presses open-mouthed kisses and light bites against his thigh as he moves up, pushing the hem of the dress out of his way.]
A-Sang... [he murmurs the nickname like a prayer, his body relaxing.]
[Licking his lips as the kiss breaks, Huaisang watches him with a warm smile. They may not exactly be on good terms, and Huaisang is not a forgiving person, but they have a certain understanding between them, and they have affection. The bond between them had been there for years. They were important to each other. Intertwined.
Letting Meng Yao do as he likes, Huaisang plucks at his hair, unfastening Meng Yao's braids so that they will unravel slowly as his mouth keeps kissing a path up Huaisang's thigh. He keens a little at each of those bites, spreading his legs wider as Meng Yao reaches the pretty lavender-colored panties beneath his dress.] A-Yao.
[He feels his hair begin to tumble from its careful braids, falling about him and brushing against Huaisang’s skin as Meng Yao moves. The sight of the panties brings an exasperatedly fond feeling and he presses his nose against it, licking a line up against his cock and wetting the fabric of the panties with it.
The use of the nickname makes him smile a little and he hums in response, mouthing against Huaisang’s cock to coax him on to hardness with a single-minded focus.]
[Huaisang knows Meng Yao's skill with his mouth, and even though he's still uncertain about the significance of this little encounter, he's more than happy to let Meng Yao show off his skills. Keening at the feeling of Meng Yao's heated tongue against his panties, he grinds his hips up into it, encouraging him to continue.] Go on, Yaoyao. You know I can't resist that sweet mouth of yours. You're so good at this.
[Meng Yao is aware that few people can resist it, though not usually for these reasons. He doesn’t laugh, even though he kind of wants to about it, and instead focuses on sitting up to reach up and grasp the hem of those panties, easing them down, urging Huaisang to lift his hips so he could pull them down.]
Once, I would have balked at you saying such a thing. [He murmurs, like he’s making a causal observation.] I hated it, being told I was good at something like this.
[But things have been changing. He’s been changing, and he gazes quietly at Huaisang’s cock like somehow it might hold an answer before he leans in and drags his tongue up the length of it, starting near his balls and up to the very tip, closing his mouth around it briefly to let the tip of his tongue draw little circles around it.]
[Huaisang gladly lifts his hips for him, making a pleased little noise as his panties are drawn away, leaving him exposed and hard, cock twitching for more.]
And now, A-Yao? [He reaches down to caress fingers idly through Meng Yao's hair, encouraging him to continue.] You're better than I am at this. I wish I had your ease and skill.
[Meng Yao’s eyelids lower, peering up at Huaisang with an expression like he’s conflicted. Like he wants to ask, but is too concerned with what the answer will be to do so.
At length he lowers his gaze and eases off of Huaisang’s cock, swallowing hard.]
...Am I a whore, Huaisang? [He asks it softly, though his expression says he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.] Is that the destiny I’m to arrive to here and accept?
[Huaisang waits patiently, even though his cock is throbbing with need between them. His gaze is soft and fond, and he brushes a strand of hair back behind Meng Yao's ear while he struggles with his question.
Nodding calmly once the question is out, Huaisang keeps gently stroking his hair for a moment.] Yes, darling.
[He bends forward, lifting Meng Yao's chin with a gentle fingertip and bending down to kiss him, soft and affectionate. Then he pulls back, smiling warmly down at him.] There's no shame in that. You are an exquisite whore. You are cherished.
I'm proud of you for embracing your role. You seem so fulfilled when you're being sweet and obedient, and you must have noticed how ravenous Xichen is for you when you are like this. He resisted you just fine before, but now... [Huaisang smirks a tiny bit and nips at Meng Yao's cheekbone.] You are truly exceptional. The gem of anyone's harem.
[His breath hitches, catches and holds and he closes his eyes against what feels—what sounds—like an undeniable truth. His eyes feel wet immediately, something feeling like it breaks within his chest and he doesn’t know if it’s relief or despair he feels in the aftermath of it.]
But, I— [His voice cracks, a weak protest. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be someone. He was supposed to matter. He’s definitely taken notice of Xichen’s sudden frenzy and need towards him, far more than he’d ever shown before. How much of his fraying restraint was because of the guilt of not acting on it before, and how much of it truly was because of how Meng Yao was acting now?
His fingers clutch tightly at Huaisang’s legs for a moment before they relax, his furrowed brow smoothing as he resigns himself to it, giving the tiniest of nods and pushing his thoughts away. It’s easier to focus on the task at hand, pulling away from Huaisang’s hands and mouth to lower his head and press his lips to the tip of Huaisang’s cock.
He stretches them around it as he eases down with a bit more aggression and impatience than he normally shows with this, like he has some kind of point to prove now or something. There are tears dripping down his cheeks, and that’s a bit embarrassing, but he hardly allows himself to pay attention to it]
Yaoyao. [Huaisang's voice is soft, coaxing, and worried, and he lifts Meng Yao's head with a gentle touch, firmly raising him off his cock and giving him a sweet kiss, then licking the tears off one of his cheeks.] Shh. Take a deep breath, my beauty.
[He brushes the tears from the other cheek with a gentle thumb.] You are not only a whore, san ge. Wangji and I rely upon your assistance with our accounts, and we've trusted you with your own. You are a companion, graceful and sweet, and a diplomat who has aided me in many situations.
Being a whore is not a shameful thing, A-Yao. Look at your life now. You are cherished and desired, dressed in exquisite fashion to show off your beauty, valued for your business acumen as much as for your courtesy. It's true that you still have much repentance to perform for your sins, but look at your life now, A-Yao. You are known for what you are, not the mask you wear, and you are valued for your nature and your skills.
[The worst thing about it is that it all flows so logically. He can see how each point interconnects, with barely any space for arguing between them. He could argue. He could rail against such accusations; his mother had been a whore and he didn’t find it shameful so much as necessary to survive, but the profession still had its mark of shame in society that bleeds even into Meng Yao who knows better. His pride is bruised and hurt and he’s been struggling to reconcile that it’s not something to be embarrassed of despite... Well, everything in his life trying to run counter to that.
His mother both was and wasn’t a source of shame. In this world, it didn’t matter. In this world, his ability to become like a whore and seek and give pleasure was a skill looked on with approval and envy. And it’s true he did far much more than that, both for Wangji and the temple, and Huaisang and his business. They... liked him, he supposed. Truthfully it didn’t matter how much they told him so, if they did, there would always be a traitorous whisper in the back of his mind warning him to watch out for such falsehoods and lies, because— Well. Because why? What did they have to gain from it here except as another means of subtly insulting him somehow?
He blinks back more tears and thinks that this sin’t the reason he’d come here today. He can’t quite recall the real reason anymore anyhow and that’s troublesome too.
There’s a lot he wants to say, but he can’t find the voice for them. Can’t find the motivation to try and argue when he doesn’t have any evidence to present otherwise. Even if he’s unwilling to face the truth, he must. Because it is the truth, isn’t it?]
...Yes. [Is what he says at length, soft and accepting. Yes, it must be true. Yes, he must accept it, because there’s no other alternative that he can feasibly see. Yes, because he has no choice. He closes his eyes and leans his head into the touch, sighing in a sort of deep contentment, like letting go.]
[Huaisang nuzzles at him, affectionate and soothing, wanting to help him to relax after that intense catharsis. He keeps kissing gently at Meng Yao's face, kissing away those tears. He wants to cement this new certainty, and to bind Meng Yao to him more than ever, and kindness has proved to be the most effective way to do so.] Come on, A-Yao. Let's go take a bath together. Won't that be nice? We can relax and you can choose whichever of my bath salts or oils that you like.
[Drawing his own panties the rest of the way down, Huaisang leaves them on the floor for Xichen to tidy up later. Taking Meng Yao's hand, he helps him to his feet.]
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He wonders how much of his pleasure in being denominate over them had to do with the power and how much of it had to do with it being, well, them. Or even just Meng Yao specifically. Was it power and domination for power and domination’s sake alone, or was it having Meng Yao on his knees?
He’s not sure he wants to ask and he takes another drink.] I feel you have little to fear of that happening. I don’t think I’d be able to let you go so easily either. [His confession is quiet, expression distant as he thinks about it.]
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[He expects that this praise and emotional vulnerability is working up to asking some kind of favor. Intimate though their relationship has become, Huaisang doesn't think it's in any way an unselfish relationship. He doesn't believe that Meng Yao would come to him just out of the desire to see him.]
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His hand touches one smooth leg and he shivers a little, slowly shaking his head.] I came... simply to show my appreciation. [He moves Huaisang’s legs aside to sink to his knees on the floor, looking hesitant and uncertain.
It was one thing, after all, to give himself up to Huaisang because the rules of this society and their contract dictated it be so. It was another entirely to do so by himself, because he wanted to and he seemed mildly terrified by the implications there.]
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Though he doesn't understand why Meng Yao is nervous, he understands that he is. Leaning forward, Huaisang lifts Meng Yao's face in both hands, claiming his lips for a warm, generous kiss.]
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When he breaks the kiss his eyes are slightly hazy, but his expression calmer and more content as they often became during these moments when he knew he could put thought aside to focus in on the moment. So he lowers his head to nuzzle against Huaisang’s leg, then presses open-mouthed kisses and light bites against his thigh as he moves up, pushing the hem of the dress out of his way.]
A-Sang... [he murmurs the nickname like a prayer, his body relaxing.]
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Letting Meng Yao do as he likes, Huaisang plucks at his hair, unfastening Meng Yao's braids so that they will unravel slowly as his mouth keeps kissing a path up Huaisang's thigh. He keens a little at each of those bites, spreading his legs wider as Meng Yao reaches the pretty lavender-colored panties beneath his dress.] A-Yao.
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The use of the nickname makes him smile a little and he hums in response, mouthing against Huaisang’s cock to coax him on to hardness with a single-minded focus.]
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Once, I would have balked at you saying such a thing. [He murmurs, like he’s making a causal observation.] I hated it, being told I was good at something like this.
[But things have been changing. He’s been changing, and he gazes quietly at Huaisang’s cock like somehow it might hold an answer before he leans in and drags his tongue up the length of it, starting near his balls and up to the very tip, closing his mouth around it briefly to let the tip of his tongue draw little circles around it.]
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And now, A-Yao? [He reaches down to caress fingers idly through Meng Yao's hair, encouraging him to continue.] You're better than I am at this. I wish I had your ease and skill.
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At length he lowers his gaze and eases off of Huaisang’s cock, swallowing hard.]
...Am I a whore, Huaisang? [He asks it softly, though his expression says he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.] Is that the destiny I’m to arrive to here and accept?
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Nodding calmly once the question is out, Huaisang keeps gently stroking his hair for a moment.] Yes, darling.
[He bends forward, lifting Meng Yao's chin with a gentle fingertip and bending down to kiss him, soft and affectionate. Then he pulls back, smiling warmly down at him.] There's no shame in that. You are an exquisite whore. You are cherished.
I'm proud of you for embracing your role. You seem so fulfilled when you're being sweet and obedient, and you must have noticed how ravenous Xichen is for you when you are like this. He resisted you just fine before, but now... [Huaisang smirks a tiny bit and nips at Meng Yao's cheekbone.] You are truly exceptional. The gem of anyone's harem.
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But, I— [His voice cracks, a weak protest. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be someone. He was supposed to matter. He’s definitely taken notice of Xichen’s sudden frenzy and need towards him, far more than he’d ever shown before. How much of his fraying restraint was because of the guilt of not acting on it before, and how much of it truly was because of how Meng Yao was acting now?
His fingers clutch tightly at Huaisang’s legs for a moment before they relax, his furrowed brow smoothing as he resigns himself to it, giving the tiniest of nods and pushing his thoughts away. It’s easier to focus on the task at hand, pulling away from Huaisang’s hands and mouth to lower his head and press his lips to the tip of Huaisang’s cock.
He stretches them around it as he eases down with a bit more aggression and impatience than he normally shows with this, like he has some kind of point to prove now or something. There are tears dripping down his cheeks, and that’s a bit embarrassing, but he hardly allows himself to pay attention to it]
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[He brushes the tears from the other cheek with a gentle thumb.] You are not only a whore, san ge. Wangji and I rely upon your assistance with our accounts, and we've trusted you with your own. You are a companion, graceful and sweet, and a diplomat who has aided me in many situations.
Being a whore is not a shameful thing, A-Yao. Look at your life now. You are cherished and desired, dressed in exquisite fashion to show off your beauty, valued for your business acumen as much as for your courtesy. It's true that you still have much repentance to perform for your sins, but look at your life now, A-Yao. You are known for what you are, not the mask you wear, and you are valued for your nature and your skills.
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His mother both was and wasn’t a source of shame. In this world, it didn’t matter. In this world, his ability to become like a whore and seek and give pleasure was a skill looked on with approval and envy. And it’s true he did far much more than that, both for Wangji and the temple, and Huaisang and his business. They... liked him, he supposed. Truthfully it didn’t matter how much they told him so, if they did, there would always be a traitorous whisper in the back of his mind warning him to watch out for such falsehoods and lies, because— Well. Because why? What did they have to gain from it here except as another means of subtly insulting him somehow?
He blinks back more tears and thinks that this sin’t the reason he’d come here today. He can’t quite recall the real reason anymore anyhow and that’s troublesome too.
There’s a lot he wants to say, but he can’t find the voice for them. Can’t find the motivation to try and argue when he doesn’t have any evidence to present otherwise. Even if he’s unwilling to face the truth, he must. Because it is the truth, isn’t it?]
...Yes. [Is what he says at length, soft and accepting. Yes, it must be true. Yes, he must accept it, because there’s no other alternative that he can feasibly see. Yes, because he has no choice. He closes his eyes and leans his head into the touch, sighing in a sort of deep contentment, like letting go.]
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[Drawing his own panties the rest of the way down, Huaisang leaves them on the floor for Xichen to tidy up later. Taking Meng Yao's hand, he helps him to his feet.]