[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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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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.]