bud to beast
Part three of mixed metaphors
Wei Wuxian had his didi’s cock in his mouth, and it was glory.
Glory’s mass filled his throat—
Its hardness resisted his lips—
Its texture pleasured his tongue—
Its—eruption—
Jiang Cheng’s climax—
Loud and long—
Triggered Wei Wuxian’s own.
It obliterated him.
When death was passed, and glory was spent, Wei Wuxian climbed up his brother’s body, to lose himself in his eyes.
Those eyes that had always been simple as a doe’s were now sultry like a whore’s.
“I love you,” Wei Wuxian said. “A-Cheng—Didi—Baobei—I love you.”
Jiang Cheng looked back at him, up at him—sultry-eyed as a whore—and canted his hips, and wrapped his legs around Wei Wuxian’s waist, and his arms around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.
Then he spoke.
“Then love me,” he said. “Love me, tonight. Here we are, stolen away from home, in this room you never use because you’ve been unable to tear yourself away from me. I know it, now. I’ve known it since you made yourself known to me. So tonight, in this room where there’s no one to know who we are or to care what we do—love me, Gege. Love me all the way. I’ve been waiting. You’ve been wanting. Love me, tonight, all the way, for the first time.”
“Tell me you want it too,” Wei Wuxian said. “Tell me you want me too. Do you, Baobei? Tell me, if it’s the truth: tell me you want me as much as I want you.”
Because if it’s the truth—then I didn’t corrupt you.
Because if it’s the truth—then I didn’t take what should never have been mine.
But Wei Wuxian knew the truth.
He knew he’d taken what should never have been his.
He knew he’d corrupted his illegally young lover.
His illegally young brother.
But Jiang Cheng had loosened his arms and was now touching his hands to Wei Wuxian’s face.
“Gege,” he said—and there they were—those doe eyes.
Wei Wuxian felt himself fall into them.
“I love you,” Jiang Cheng said, “and I want you. Haven’t I learned, this past week, since you revealed yourself to me on Thanksgiving day, to want you as much as you want me? Haven’t you taught me—kiss by kiss, and touch by touch, and climax by climax—that I’m yours and only yours? You’ve made me feel things people die without ever feeling, because they die without ever knowing they belong to another. I belong to you. I know it, body and soul. I’m yours, body and soul. I’ve given myself to you, whole-heartedly and full-throatedly, and it’s time—it’s past time—for you to believe me, when and because I speak the truth. I won’t have you harboring doubts any longer. I won’t let you suffer any more guilt. Gege: does it matter how it started, now that it’s begun? Does it matter that you took my innocence, when that was the price of love? Does it matter, even, that we’re brothers, when that makes love all, and only, the sweeter?”
Those doe eyes.
Those limpid pools.
Wei Wuxian was undone.
“How are your eyes so clear?” he asked his undoer. His didi, his baobei. “How are you so simple? So without guile—without art—without the least pretension?”
Jiang Cheng ran his fingertips along Wei Wuxian’s cheekbone. Then the other.
“I’ll tell you how,” he said. “The answer is as simple as I am: it’s because I’ve known myself loved all my blessed life. I’ve known it from the moment I was born, because I know you loved me from the moment I was born. And because you’ve loved me all my life, with a pure and radiant love, I’ve never had to grow a second skin against the rude intrusions of the world. The rudeness couldn’t see, for dazzlement, that I was even there, and so it passed me by. I’ve never had to grow a second consciousness to protect a first which observed, and instructed, that I had to be other than I was if I was to be safe and secure and warm in the world. No, Gege. I’ve always been safe, and secure, and warm, in the light of your shining love. Do you see, now? Do you understand, now? You made me. You loved me, so you made me. And now you’ve made love to me. Over the last week, you’ve made passionate love to me. But tonight, I want more than your words and kisses. I want more than your mouth and caresses. Tonight, I want you to love me all the way. Will you do it, Gege? Will you make love to me? Will you give me what I want—your body on mine—your body in mine?”
Yes, and yes, and yes—every day, every night, for the rest of our lives.
“Yes,” Wei Wuxian said. “Yes,” and he lowered his head, and touched Jiang Cheng’s lips with his own.
It was the barest kiss. It was a butterfly alighting on an unopened bud.
Bloom, Didi, Wei Wuxian thought, drunk with the power of command. It’s time for you to blossom.
He touched, next, the tip of his tongue to the center of Jiang Cheng’s lower lip, and applying the slightest pressure coaxed his brother’s sweet mouth open.
Thus did the first sepal peel away from the corolla.
He kissed, then, his baobei, his precious one.
It was nothing they hadn’t done before, this tender kissing, but never had they done it each knowing and both set on the culmination of their embrace. It would be tender fucking, tonight, for the first time. It would be Wei Wuxian’s cock in Jiang Cheng’s hole, filling him up, emptying him out, filling him up again, in a rhythm older than love, as old as flesh.
So it was that their kisses now, informed by their fucking to come, grew less tender, grew more carnal, until they were eating at each other, rubbing against each other, their cocks hard, their mouths feral.
So it is, Wei Wuxian thought dizzily, that knowledge corrupts.
So it was that the calyx laid itself open like a star, leaving the corolla bare.
With a great effort Wei Wuxian tore his mouth away, and freed himself from his brother’s encircling limbs.
Jiang Cheng whined the loss.
He thrust his hips up, as if helplessly, and whined again to meet only air.
“Gege,” he said. “I want—”
Wie Wuxian didn’t know which was more delicious: the sight or the plea.
Both drove him wild.
But, “Hush,” he soothed, and touched a hand to Jiang Cheng’s sweet thigh. It trembled in response. “I know what you want, Didi, and I’m going to give it to you. Here, Baobei. Turn over. Yes, just like that. I want to kiss you some more. I want to kiss you—here,” he said, and touched a fingertip to Jiang Cheng’s sweet hole.
It gave, slightly, when he pressed, lightly.
Jiang Cheng’s gasp, or the velvet grip—
Wei Wuxian didn’t know which was more delectable.
They drove him wilder.
So he lowered his head, replaced his finger with his tongue, and proceeded to feast.
He ate his didi’s ass.
Lick by lick, stab by stab, he tongued his brother’s hole open.
The taste and the texture, or Jiang Cheng’s moans and cries—
Luscious, all—
Wei Wuxian didn’t know which—
But he didn’t have to choose—
All of it was his.
Driven wildest by the thought—the wildest beast on this field of two—the wildest he had ever known himself or any other to be—he rose up onto his knees, took hold of Jiang Cheng’s sweet waist, and flipped his precious didi onto his back.
Jiang Cheng’s eyes—
“You,” Wei Wuxian heard himself say in wonder— “The wildest beast on the field— Each of us, the wildest beast on the field—”
“Gege,” Jiang Cheng said, the wildest beast on the field— “Fuck me.”
“Yes,” Wei Wuxian breathed—
He groped under the pillow for lube—
And coated his cock—
And lined himself up.
He looked into Jiang Cheng’s wild eyes—
And sank into his sweet ass on one long stroke.
Both wild, both groaned.
Wei Wuxian had been wrong.
There was nothing tender about their fucking.
Joined together, their bodies one, they fucked like beasts of the field.
Wei Wuxian spared no strength.
He showed no mercy.
Jiang Cheng asked for none.
He asked only for more, ever more, please more.
Wei Wuxian gave it to him: only more, ever more, yes, more.
“All I have,” he promised, “all I am—”
“And I—” Jiang Cheng vowed in return—
And came.
He came, screaming and writhing, on Wei Wuxian’s cock.
At the sight, at the clutch, Wei Wuxian came too.
With a great roar, he came buried deep inside his didi’s ass.
For a wild eternity they came together—
They came down from it together.
When Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, it was to the sight of Jiang Cheng’s limpid own, simple as a doe’s.
He had to smile.
“Did I fuck the beast out of you?” he asked. “A-Cheng—Didi—Baobei—where did it come from, the beast? I never knew you had it in you.”
“I didn’t, either,” Jiang Cheng said. “It must have been waiting for you. For you to realize you loved me, and to tell me you loved me, and for me to beg you to fuck it into being.”
“Next time,” Wei Wuxian said, “we’ll do it sweetly and slowly.”
Jiang Cheng smiled.
“In ten minutes,” he said, “we’ll do it sweetly and slowly.”
Wei Wuxian laughed.
“I think you’re underestimating the time it’ll take me to recover,” he said, “and overestimating my stamina.”
“I can rouse you,” Jiang Cheng said, with the sublime confidence of one who knows himself beautiful and beloved.
He was.
He could.
He did.
Through the remainder of the night he roused Wei Wuxian to fuck him to six more screaming orgasms.
“God,” Wei Wuxian moaned, fucking him through the last of them, as day dawned at the edges of the blinds, “you’re a wonder, a marvel, a sweet little whore. A cockslut born and made. Aren’t you, Didi? You were born and made to take cock, weren’t you, my sweet whore? My precious slut?”
“Yours,” Jiang Cheng said, languid post-bliss. “Always and only yours.”
“Mine,” Wei Wuxian growled, wild on the edge, and came.
Entangled, brother and brother fell asleep at the dawn of day.
Thus was the bud deflowered.
Thus was the bud devoured.
Thus was the beast born.