Chapter Text
the wrong man is a map
home is where he puts the lines
my body is a border drawn by accident
by the wrong man’s tongue
love makes scars on my body and calls them borders
[...]
love let the wrong man decide what my body mistakes for home
love started the firemy body is a house on fire
They are, both of them, naked and unashamed, tall and long-limbed; one is pale, like the slivers of moonlight breaking through dense leaves amidst the dark moss and slippery stones, while the other is still all brown barks and green leaves, a lithe and wiry black locust in human form. The sounds of the nearby streams and chirping, flighty things are barely loud enough to cover the sound of two pairs of lungs breathing in unison and two hearts beating in tandem. It’s a beautiful, heady thing because despite not needing to breathe or circulate blood, his perfect little Locust Demon still chose to replicate all of him anyway.
The Great Ape can’t help but smile, calling, “Li Lun,” the taste of his Locust Demon’s name as sweet as the flowers that fill his belly and nurture his strength.
Li Lun mirrors him, the lower part of his face rends open then stretches to reveal two rows of vicious thorns. The split opens wider as Li Lun tries to produce sound but all he could ‘say’ is the creaking of wood and the whistling of leaves, the sound of it is more of a groan than the Great Ape’s name and the Great Ape’s smile widens. He grabs one of Li Lun’s hanging limbs and touches it to the tip of it to the hollow of his throat so Li Lun can feel the mechanics and vibrations of sounds and names.
“Li Lun,” the Great Ape says and Li Lun groans once more, the sound more animal than tree leaves this time. He grabs Li Lun’s neck, rubbing small circles at the base of his throat, and croons in fascination as the bark under his fingers smoothens into skin.
“Li Lun,” the Great Ape repeats and Li Lun mewls, the syllable a bit more distinguished. He applies pressure, stroking up the column, and Li Lun’s neck creaks under his hands, the ripple of it a delicious thing against his palms. “Li Lun,” he says again and, this time, when Li Lun speaks, the sound of the Great Ape’s name is clear and loud, chiming through their corner of the forest: “Zhu Yan.”
It’s Li Lun’s first word and Zhu Yan exclaims, “Li Lun!” tittering with delight, and pulls Li Lun against him.
“Zhu Yan,” Li Lun replies and stumbles on his newborn legs into the cocoon of Zhu Yan’s arms.
Zhu Yan’s fingers skim down to settle on each side of Li Lun’s middle while Li Lun’s now-human fingers climb to his face.
His teeth lose their sharp edges as Li Lun traces his jaws and cheeks with shaking, newborn fingers. The bark on his Locust Demon’s face ripples and smoothes into soft, delicate flesh, mirroring Zhu Yan’s satiny one. The tip of his digits graze Zhu Yan’s lips and the split in his face plumps up into lips; he brushes over Zhu Yan’s nose and a cute bump grows on his face; he traces Zhu Yan’s eyebrows and the twigs of his brows feathers into hair; he touches Zhu Yan’s eyes and his turns from solid into gleaming flower-white and forest-blue.
Their eyes meet, forest and flowers soothing luminous Moon red, and Zhu Yan pants, “Li Lun,” awed by Li Lun’s beauty and magnificence.
“Zhu Yan,” Li Lun answers just as breathlessly, chest caving in and then expanding against Zhu Yan’s. He threads his fingers through Zhu Yan’s glossy, silver locks, running them down the length, and the thorns and leaves atop his head flow into a starless cascade, the end of it brushing sweetly across Zhu Yan’s knuckles at his nape.
Zhu Yan hasn’t been idle as Li Lun explores the plane of his face. He too traverses the contour of Li Lun’s trunk-torso, branch-body, and leafy limbs, fingers chasing away the tough protective outer sheath over his Locust Demon and replacing it with soft flesh and thin coating of human skin. Li Lun is still playing with Zhu Yan’s hair and growing his own side-swept when Zhu Yan’s hand crosses the valleys between Li Lun’s lower limbs, fingers dancing across smooth skin and over soft, flower-like furl to grab the sacs and organ at his front.
Li Lun gasps, the undulation of his chest a lovely thing against Zhu yan’s. Zhu Yan smiles once more and squeezes, one palm gliding down the soft shaft in his grasp, while the other cups the back of Li Lun’s precious head to pull him closer. Li Lun answers in kind by tugging at Zhu Yan’s hair and leans completely against him, mumbling Zhu Yan’s name into his cheek. Zhu Yan kisses Li Lun’s ear softly in answer before grabbing his fleshy thighs and hoists him up. Li Lun, unaccustomed to not being rooted to the ground, flails in his arms; his back bends backward into a lovely arch, nipples soft and pale like his flowers under the moonlight, while his human-soft tummy trembles like rustling leaves, and his penis slaps lightly against the terrain of Zhu Yan’s stomach with every step that Zhu Yan takes. His Locust Tree is beautiful and perfect and Zhu Yan wants nothing more than to have him and have him and have him.
Zhu Yan deposits him on the stone dias Grandpa Ying Zhao fashioned for the purpose of Zhu Yan’s mediation all those centuries ago then climbs up to sit opposite his Locust Demon.
“Zhu Yan,” Li Lun complains, frowning and pouting, his body already learning to express and communicate.
Zhu Yan’s chest swells with pride and he scoots closer to appease him, soothes him, touches his shoulders, and caresses his cheeks. And now that he’s able to look at Li Lun properly, he realized Li Lun’s teeth are still that of thorns and his tongue is still a leaf. He can’t help but chuckle; his Locust Tree might be a genius but there’s much he needs to learn to become human. So, Zhu Yan grabs Li Lun’s hand and sucks the fingers into his mouth.
“Teeth,” he says around the digits pressing on his molars and puts Li Lun’s other hand to the thorns inside his own cavern, running the pads of Li Lun's fingers across them in emphasis.
Li Lun blinks, wiggling his fingers further into Zhu Yan’s mouth, feeling not only his teeth and molars but also his tonsils and uvula. He hums, eyes lighting up in understanding, and pushes his fingers further into his own cavity as he molds his teeth to be like Zhu Yan’s.
His new mouth opens wider and wider and wider and Zhu Yan can see all the way to the back of his throat, witnessing the wall of his cavern tempers into cushiony tonsils. And with all that openness, Zhu Yan sees it as an invitation to explore so he squeezes his fingers in alongside Li Lun’s; first with two fingers, stroking the roof of Li Lun’s mouth, then putting the thumb of another hand inside, hooking his cheek to the side just to see his Black Locust’s thorns dulling into rounded molars and square, edgeless teeth.
His fingers remain even after Li Lun withdraws his, the pads stroking his now-haman teeth, tongue, palate and gum. Li Lun burbles around Zhu Yan’s fingers, sending tremors down his spine.
“Hmm?” he questions in return and strokes the inside of Li Lun’s cheek. Li Lun gurgles some more, saliva pooling under his tongue and dripping crystal lines down the side of his gaping mouth.
Zhu Yan dips a thumb into the puddle and presses his nail into the soft underside of Li Lun’s tongue. He leans forward and dips his tongue into the puddle. He licks his lips as he pulls away, saying, “Li Lun tastes like Zhu Yan.”
Li Lun’s newly-acquired brows pinch into a frown. Zhu Yan can’t help but smile at Li Lun’s visible expression of confusion; Li Lun is so smart, so perfect, so quick to learn and to feel.
He uses the fingers hooked into Li Lun’s mouth to tilt his face down and rewards him with kisses on his forehead, eyelids, and bulging cheeks. Then, he kisses the corners of Li Lun’s lips, lapping up the crystalline saliva gathered there. He pries Li Lun’s mouth open once more, stroking Li Lun’s soft, wiggly tongue with both thumbs.
“Here,” he says, using one hand to pull Li Lun’s tongue out of its cavity. “We taste the same,” he continues and leans in to suckle on the pale, pink organ just like how he’d sip the life essence from his Locust Tree’s flowers.
Li Lun groans, newborn fingers flexing for purchase on Zhu Yan’s forearm. Zhu Yan chuckles and pulls back. Li Lun follows and Zhu Yan chuckles again.
“Come,” he says and, with the fingers still hooked inside Li Lun’s mouth, Zhu Yan pulls Li Lun toward him and against his mouth. Li Lun comes willingly, crawling shakily on raw, new-fawn knees all the way into Zhu Yan’s lap, mouth open and inelegant against Zhu Yan’s, tongue wet and slick against Zhu Yan’s teeth.
Zhu Yan withdraws his remaining fingers from Li Lun’s mouth and runs one hand down his back, wet fingers dancing over each knobby hill of his spine, before settling on his lower back. With his free hand, he grabs Li Lun’s nape, tugging him even closer, if that’s even possible, then takes Li Lun’s fluttering tongue into his mouth.
“Taste,” Zhu Yan mumbles around his mouthful, teeth gnawing across Li Lun’s sensitive tongue, and lies in wait.