Although Lan Zhan loves to see Wei Ying's face when he rides him, to pepper it with kisses or watch as Wei Ying's eyes flutter and roll back as he comes, there is this - Lan Zhan can imagine few better sights than this, his hands clutching Wei Ying's hips, holding him steady as Lan Zhan drives himself in and in until Wei Ying can feel it in his teeth. Where he's face down on the bed, his arms useless to hold him up.
Again, Wei Ying goads him, and Lan zhan can't help but give him everything he asks for and more. He aches with his desire, some deep part of him wanting to give the way a dam gives way to a flood, ardor and lust overflowing, bearing down on him in waves. Another time, perhaps, he'll experiment with the settings on the vibrator to see which patterns best suit them both, but the steady pressure of it against his dick and its consistent buzz are more than enough.
In response to Wei Ying's ramblings, all Lan Zhan can manage is a low groan of his name, a hot puff of air as his head drops forward. The filth that pours out of Wei Ying's mouth in these moments gets under his skin in the best way, drives him harder. He will never get enough of Wei Ying's voice, particularly when it's hoarse and wrecked with sex, with his desperate cries for Lan zhan to go faster, deeper. He's impossibly hard, shuddering with the force of his thrusts and panting for breath as his muscles burn. The slap of skin on skin is deafening as his awareness narrows, shrinks down to nothing more than raw sensation and awareness - the sweat beading under his shirt, the way Wei Ying fucks back onto him and the slap of his ass against Lan Zhan's pelvic bone and thighs, hard enough to sting, and the blooming redness on Wei Ying's skin with the force of it.
He's getting close - he can feel his core tighten with it, and with the way Wei Ying squeezes around him, Lan Zhan can tell he is, as well. His neglected cock hangs down between his legs, dark with arousal and dripping steadily into the sheets. Lan Zhan knows, intimately, that Wei Ying can come untouched; he has done so with Lan zhan buried deep inside him before, but also from something as simple as having Lan Zhan fuck his mouth. So he doesn't bother touching him there. Instead, he shifts his weight so he can bring Wei Ying up on his knees on the edge of the bed, Lan Zhan's arm holding him around his slim waist, back to front. There is less leverage for his thrusts but the angle is different, bringing him even deeper inside Wei Ying and allowing him to press and grind into that spot that will make him see stars. His other hand moves from Wei Ying's waist, skims over his stomach and hard nipples to wrap lightly around his throat, collaring him with Lan Zhan's long fingers.
He presses just so, hard enough that Wei Ying will have to gasp for breath, work for it, but not enough to completely cut off his air. Lan Zhan has to take a deep breath of his own before he can speak, and even then, his voice is ragged, deeper than his usual register, almost a growl.
"You will come like this," he grounds out, gritting his teeth against how the plug has shifted angle as well, and he thinks he can feel the vibration down to his bones now. "Like this," he says, leaning to speak directly into Wei Ying's ear, to harshly bite at the shell of it. "Or not at all."
It isn't an empty threat. But they play this game, sometimes, and he knows Wei Ying loves it.
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Again, Wei Ying goads him, and Lan zhan can't help but give him everything he asks for and more. He aches with his desire, some deep part of him wanting to give the way a dam gives way to a flood, ardor and lust overflowing, bearing down on him in waves. Another time, perhaps, he'll experiment with the settings on the vibrator to see which patterns best suit them both, but the steady pressure of it against his dick and its consistent buzz are more than enough.
In response to Wei Ying's ramblings, all Lan Zhan can manage is a low groan of his name, a hot puff of air as his head drops forward. The filth that pours out of Wei Ying's mouth in these moments gets under his skin in the best way, drives him harder. He will never get enough of Wei Ying's voice, particularly when it's hoarse and wrecked with sex, with his desperate cries for Lan zhan to go faster, deeper. He's impossibly hard, shuddering with the force of his thrusts and panting for breath as his muscles burn. The slap of skin on skin is deafening as his awareness narrows, shrinks down to nothing more than raw sensation and awareness - the sweat beading under his shirt, the way Wei Ying fucks back onto him and the slap of his ass against Lan Zhan's pelvic bone and thighs, hard enough to sting, and the blooming redness on Wei Ying's skin with the force of it.
He's getting close - he can feel his core tighten with it, and with the way Wei Ying squeezes around him, Lan Zhan can tell he is, as well. His neglected cock hangs down between his legs, dark with arousal and dripping steadily into the sheets. Lan Zhan knows, intimately, that Wei Ying can come untouched; he has done so with Lan zhan buried deep inside him before, but also from something as simple as having Lan Zhan fuck his mouth. So he doesn't bother touching him there. Instead, he shifts his weight so he can bring Wei Ying up on his knees on the edge of the bed, Lan Zhan's arm holding him around his slim waist, back to front. There is less leverage for his thrusts but the angle is different, bringing him even deeper inside Wei Ying and allowing him to press and grind into that spot that will make him see stars. His other hand moves from Wei Ying's waist, skims over his stomach and hard nipples to wrap lightly around his throat, collaring him with Lan Zhan's long fingers.
He presses just so, hard enough that Wei Ying will have to gasp for breath, work for it, but not enough to completely cut off his air. Lan Zhan has to take a deep breath of his own before he can speak, and even then, his voice is ragged, deeper than his usual register, almost a growl.
"You will come like this," he grounds out, gritting his teeth against how the plug has shifted angle as well, and he thinks he can feel the vibration down to his bones now. "Like this," he says, leaning to speak directly into Wei Ying's ear, to harshly bite at the shell of it. "Or not at all."
It isn't an empty threat. But they play this game, sometimes, and he knows Wei Ying loves it.