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The coffin is the only way across, that much is true, but Hua Cheng was starting to regret his self-indulgent decision to build one so small.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian murmurs, “Are you okay?”
“Mm. As long as Dianxia is okay so am I.”
They both fall silent and Xie Lian’s heart beats steady as he curls further up on Hua Cheng’s chest. The waves are relentless, not giving them a moment of peace.
It’s both the best and absolute worst moment of Hua Cheng’s long life. Best being he’s pressed right up against the love of his entire existence. Worst being he’s increasingly getting excited about being pressed right up against the love of his entire existence.
Hua Cheng's thankful for the lack of blood running through his body on account of the fact that his cheeks would have been on absolute fire if it were. Blood or not though, they still feel aflame.
The coffin jolts sharply as it hits another wave and Xie Lian’s body presses against his further. Hua Cheng’s teeth grit as he tries with all his willpower to clear his mind of all thoughts. Thoughts that are increasingly hard to ward off with Xie Lian clinging to his chest, body warm against his cool skin.
“Sorry,” Xie Lian chokes out, his tone as strained and embarrassed as Hua Cheng feels.
Do not get hard, Hua Cheng commands himself unsuccessfully. And he can command anything else, all alive or dead in fear or awe of him, but the battle he cannot win is against his own body.
Xie Lian’s face is pressed right into Hua Cheng’s neck, and every little gasp he makes with the coffin’s movement vibrates against his skin. And it’s not as if Xie Lian’s kissing his neck, but with his lips constantly brushing it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine.
To imagine Xie Lian’s lips parting, every so slightly, lightly kissing and then sucking-
Fuck.
Hua Cheng shuts his eye and wonders if it’s weird to pray to the very God lying ontop of you that you don’t get hard because of him.
Maybe a little.
“I’m too heavy,” Xie Lian whispers, apologetic, and the words send shivers down Hua Cheng’s spine. It would be so easy, too easy to just tilt his head slightly and kiss-
If only there were a need for him to transfer some spiritual powers... Right this second.
“Sorry,” Xie Lian says again, and Hua Cheng can feel him straining to try and hold his body weight off him.
It’s not in his best interests or it’s exactly in his best interests, whichever it is, Hua Cheng wraps his arms around Xie Lian, pulling him even closer so he has to relax and stop holding himself up.
Xie Lian gasps at the motion, and Hua Cheng’s ninety-nine percent sure it’s a noise of surprise but his traitorous brain interprets it as a moan, cock twitching in his pants, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric that's feeling dangerously tight.
Hua Cheng tries to keep his voice level, “You’re not heavy. Please just relax Dianxia,” he says, feeling anything but relaxed himself.
Xie Lian half turns on his side, the curve of his ass pressing into Hua Cheng’s crotch. It’s an infinitely worse position. Hua Cheng hasn’t needed to breathe in years but it suddenly feels like he absolutely must and there’s no oxygen available. He may just go down in history as the first ghost to die a second death from horny asphyxiation.
“Is it better like this?” Xie Lian questions, anxious. Hua Cheng shuts his eye and mumbles something incoherent in response. He’s torn between continuing the failed attempt at emptying his brain of all Xie Lian thoughts (a feat near impossible, considering he’s always on his mind), or; giving in and indulging in it. They’ve hugged before, sure, but not for any extended period of time and not like this.
Hua Cheng buries the lingering guilt he feels around enjoying the current situation.
Cruel punishment or lucky reward, the coffin lurches again, Xie Lian’s knee knocking directly into Hua Cheng’s crotch.
“San Lang! Sorry!” Xie Lian’s face reddens so brightly it’s visible even in the dark coffin.
“No, it’s, it’s o-okay,” Hua Cheng manages, unable to hold back a roll of pleasure curling down to his toes.
He freezes, entire body tense when Xie Lian instinctively reaches out and pats his crotch in apology, fingers brushing lightly over his dick.
FUCK!
“Sorry, ah oh w-, s-sorry,” Xie Lian says flustered, clearly not thinking. “I-,” Xie Lian begins and then trails off immediately, biting his lip.
Hua Cheng’s suddenly glad he’s a ghost, no heavy breathing to betray him. One hand rests precariously on Xie Lian’s back, the other clenched into a fist, fingernails pressing into his palm. The brush of Xie Lian’s hand was so light, so obviously an accidental reaction, but Hua Cheng’s brain can’t stop tortuously playing the fleeting moment on a loop, his cock hardening without hope of return.
The thud of Xie Lian’s heartbeat fills the enclosed space and Hua Cheng can tell it’s faster than its usual rhythm. He wonders just for a second if Xie Lian is feeling affected too.
But no, that wouldn’t be the case. Because Hua Cheng is in love, worships Xie Lian, but he couldn’t possibly go so far as to think it’s reciprocated. Not even a fraction of his affection. It’s too much to even dream about.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian’s voice is soft, barely audible despite Hua Cheng’s ears being so in tune to every sound that falls out of the man’s mouth. “I’m really so sorry. I-I. I didn’t mean to-”
Hua Cheng’s forehead creases in confusion. Xie Lian is visibly upset, attempting to curl himself into the side of the coffin despite the clear lack of space to do such a thing.
It’s more than him worrying about being ‘heavy,’ or anything ridiculous of the sort. Xie Lian’s looks downcast and ashamed.
“Dianxia,” Hua Cheng whispers concerned, “Why are you sorry?”
And fuck.
The problem that Hua Cheng’s been wrestling with, on this god-forsaken journey.
Xie Lian has the exact same issue.
Hua Cheng is almost unable to speak, as the coffin jolts and the side of Xie Lian’s cock presses into him, hard. He’d been so preoccupied with sorting out his own problem that he’d not even imagined Xie Lian would be the same way.
They're both silent until another wave crashes, it pushing Xie Lian even further into him, the hard line of his cock unmistakable on Hua Cheng's thigh.
“May I,” Hua Cheng whispers, almost unable to form the words his mouth dry, “May I take care of Dianxia?”
Xie Lian splutters and lets out a nervous laugh.
“Take care? There’s no problem. It will definitely go away San Lang, I’m sorry. It must - it must be something I ate.”
Hua Cheng is so painfully hard at this point, but Xie Lian’s excuse is so ridiculous it bleeds the tension and he lets out the lightest huff of a laugh.
“San Lang,” Hua Cheng says, soft, “San Lang must of eaten it too.”
There’s silence following and Hua Cheng wonders anxiously if he should’ve brushed the whole thing aside, if he shouldn’t have said it, if Xie Lian really just-
And then oh, Xie Lian turns back fully on his front, Hua Cheng’s hardness unmistakable as it presses right into Xie Lian’s stomach.
“Oh,” Xie Lian says with surprise, and the coffin rocks, sliding Xie Lian up Hua Cheng’s tense body, and stops with him right above his face.
Xie Lian blinks down at him as if seeing him for the first time, eyes trailing down to Hua Cheng’s lips and Hua Cheng whispers, “Does Dianxia want-”
“Yes,” Xie Lian says, breathless, and he excitedly grinds down on Hua Cheng without warning, Hua Cheng gasping. “Can I touch,” Xie Lian chokes out and Hua Cheng tries to nod, head hitting the back of the coffin in his eagerness.
Xie Lian’s fingers fumble around desperately, pushing Hua Cheng’s robes aside until his warm hands are sliding up Hua Cheng’s cool, firm chest.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispers, grinding down as his fingers trail the sides of Hua Cheng’s chest. Hua Cheng trembles, thigh slotting between Xie Lian’s legs as he desperately starts to rut against him.
“Can I-” Xie Lian starts, cutting his own sentence off with a low moan that goes straight to Hua Cheng’s cock. “-K-kiss,” Xie Lian manages, and without another word Hua Cheng’s closing his eye and pressing up into him harder, his lips easily finding Xie Lian’s.
Xie Lian sighs into their kiss and Hua Cheng’s head turns hazy. He’s allowed himself to indulge in thoughts like this, but never really thought they’d come to pass.
For who would have thought that a god that they worship, would ever allow them the honour of seeing them like this.
Each press, each kiss, the way Xie Lian grinds down on him persistently, his voice shaky, hands wandering as if he can’t get enough.
Can’t get enough of Hua Cheng.
It’s mind blowing. Mind blowing that his Dianxia, his beloved, is kissing him with such fervour, finding such pleasure in his arms.
It’s a privilege. Hua Cheng is shaken.
“S-san Lang,” Xie Lian says, “May I touch you there.”
“Please,” Hua Cheng whines, his voice pitching higher, any further words stuck in his throat. Xie Lian fumbles with his tunic and they bump awkwardly along another wave. It’s messy and constricted and Hua Cheng’s entire body is stone dead cold but he’s burning inside.
“San Lang, oh,” Xie Lian whimpers as his hand wraps around Hua Cheng’s cool hard cock. Hua Cheng swallows the moan with an urgent kiss, a tear rolling down his cheek when Xie Lian strokes upward, thumb rubbing his precum roughly along the slit.
“It’s wet,” Xie Lian says, surprised, and Hua Cheng’s again hit with his inexperience, the privilege that he has to be seeing him like this.
It’s a little rough at first when Xie Lian strokes his cock slowly, but the burn is pleasurable and Hua Cheng swallows the curses that threaten to fall from his lips, punching the side of the coffin. Xie Lian drags his precum down the side of his length, Hua Cheng’s thighs trembling in anticipation. “Dianxia,” he whispers brokenly, as Xie Lian starts to stroke him faster and faster, all the while sloppily kissing him and grinding down on Hua Cheng’s thigh.
“Careful San Lang,” Xie Lian chastises when Hua Cheng’s fist hits the coffin wall, “Don’t want to break- oh-”
But broken is all that Hua Cheng feels, Xie Lian all around him, all over him, his touch, his scent, his presence so overwhelming that he can’t help tears welling.
And then the tears fall.
Xie Lian has the gall to laugh, just for a fleeting second, and Hua Cheng’s hands move down from his waist to grip his ass tightly, as if in warning.
“Crimson Rain Sought Flower is crying, ” Xie Lian whispers, half teasing, half in awe.
And god, Hua Cheng hasn’t cried real tears in who knows how long, and the last time had definitely been over Xie Lian. But not over anything like this.
Hua Cheng is speechless, unable to control the tears rolling down his cheeks and Xie Lian grinds against him faster, urged on. Hua Cheng whimpers when Xie Lian pushes his own robes aside his own cock bare, shifting and pressing in alongside Hua Cheng’s.
Xie Lian leans up and presses a kiss to Hua Cheng’s glittering eye, kissing the tears away and then he leans over and kisses his eye patch for good measure, the moment so intimate and almost out of place and Hua Cheng’s non-existent heart feels as though it may burst.
“You’re so good San Lang, so good,” Xie Lian praises, kissing all over his face, and he takes one of Hua Cheng’s hands and wraps it around both of their cocks, his own smaller resting on top in anticipation.
“Please,” Xie Lian says, and it’s more a command than permission, and Hua Cheng doesn’t hesitate, his fingers curling around their lengths. He jerks them off messily, sweat and precum streaked on his hand. It’s still a little rough and he’s unable to even think properly let alone pay too much attention to the movement of his hand.
“Dianxia,” he cries out, half embarrassed that he’s still crying and can’t seem to stop. Each jolt of pleasure coincides with a tear falling. His brain has pictured a similar scenario a million times but his body is too in shock to process it happening in reality.
“Feel so good. Feels so so good,” Xie Lian rambles, San Lang, San Lang, San Lang.
“Mm,” Hua Cheng manages in response, his wrist moving faster and Xie Lian’s head drops forward, kissing, sucking biting, the junction of his neck. It’s hot and tight and sinful and Hua Cheng can barely see or hear or speak, his body singing to the tune of Dianxia.
“San Lang, baby, uh,” Xie Lian whispers, the baby out of place it pulls Hua Cheng back from where he was teetering on the edge of reality. He moans lowly and Xie Lian leans down and kisses him, whispering baby against his lips, a smile gracing his face at the reaction it receives.
The coffin lurches forward and Xie Lian presses down against him, forehead sweaty and eyes shining. Hua Cheng doesn’t dare close his eye as their bodies tremble against one another, and Xie Lian’s face contorts in pure pleasure. Beautiful.
Xie Lian cums on his chest with a cry of San Lang, and Hua Cheng follows suit, his hand falling limp at his side, body shaking. Xie Lian kisses his forehead, his eye, his cheeks, his lips, and he’s so over stimulated that Hua Cheng again begins to cry.
“Don’t cry San Lang,” Xie Lian whispers, leaning forward and licking his salty cheek with a giggle.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng finally says, “Gege.”
They kiss gently and then fall quiet, Xie Lian flopping back down on his chest, body spent and exhausted. His heart pounds fast against Hua Cheng, and they stay that way until the coffin comes to a standstill.
“We’re here gege,” Hua Cheng eventually says, when the coffin’s been stopped for at least a minute long. He feels suddenly shy, embarrassed, gently pulling Xie Lian’s robes to cover himself, and pulling up his own. He wonders if this was just a moment, a good moment sure, and he’s grateful of course.
But having only one moment is never going to be enough.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says, light, and Hua Cheng knows him so very well, but what he hasn’t figured out is that Xie Lian knows him well too now. Knows him well enough to figure out what he’s thinking.
“I like you for more than this,” Xie Lian whispers, soft, and Hua Cheng’s chest tightens at hearing words he never dreamed fall from his lips.
“Gege,” he replies, throat tight.
Xie Lian leans down and kisses him gently, “Let’s talk outside, okay?”
They’re abruptly interrupted by Pei Ming, who yanks the top of the coffin open, cool wind and daylight rushing in.
“What the fuck,” Pei Ming mutters, upon finding the pair unexplainably close, sweaty and ruffled, an obvious picture of what had just occurred.
“Nothing to see here,” Xie Lian shouts, suddenly flustered. He scrambles up to get out, but not before stopping to hold a hand out to Hua Cheng.
“How romantic,” Pei Ming chuckles, “God and a ghost in a coffin.”
Hua Cheng ignores him and takes Xie Lian’s outstretched hand.
Shi Wu Du rushes over, the time taken enough for both Hua Cheng and Xie Lian to straighten out their robes, Hua Cheng preening, when Xie Lian reaches up on his tiptoes to smooth out his hair. Pei Ming stares at them all the while, in mild horror and awe.
“Crimson Rain Sought Flower?” Shi Wu Du questions with a curious look.
“Have you been crying?”
At that, Hua Cheng’s soft smile turns into a snarl, and a growl, Shi Wu Du hopping backward slowly in response. Pei Ming raises an eyebrow, says “Interesting,” and quickly turns away before he can also be on the receiving end of a scowl.
Hua Cheng startles when a soft hand in his own squeezes, belatedly realising that Xie Lian’s still holding it.
“Dianxia,” he whines, his voice reverting to its teenage form, his physical remaining the same.
“San Lang is pretty when he cries,” Xie Lian says smug.
(And Xie Lian swears on every year of his life he will see it again).