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[fic] bodies, talking
18 July 2024
This fic is also on AO3, if you find it easier to read there
Fandom: MDZS
Focus: Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan
Setting: Modern AU
Length: 2,069 words
Content notes:
Themes:
trans man jiang yanli; sex crying; a sweet and warm fic about seeking out overwhelming sensory experiences; me like: I have an Artistic Vision and the porn is necessary for it
Summary:
The club is loud, and Yanli likes it that way. Low lighting and throbbing music surround him along with the movements of energetic bodies. By the bar, his husband perches awkwardly on a stool with a lime-topped sparkling water in hand. Clubs are not a place Zixuan feels comfortable, but he insists he wants to come anyway on nights Yanli goes out. Yanli could easily feel stifled by the apparent surveillance – but he knows Zixuan better than that, and just feels unbearably fond.
Foreword:
a sudden vision came to me of happy twink trans man jiang yanli and his supportive husband, and I had to share. thank you always to my cheerleader and beta extraordinaire, verity!
Fic:
The club is loud, and Yanli likes it that way. Low lighting and throbbing music surround him along with the movements of energetic bodies. By the bar, his husband perches awkwardly on a stool with a lime-topped sparkling water in hand. Clubs are not a place Zixuan feels comfortable, but he insists he wants to come anyway on nights Yanli goes out. Yanli could easily feel stifled by the apparent surveillance – but he knows Zixuan better than that, and just feels unbearably fond.
Yanli never learned how to go clubbing when he was younger. Such behaviour wasn't proper for the demure young lady he was assumed to be, and dancing was too athletic for him to manage anyway. Now he has an asthma inhaler and prescription orthotics and he loves to be just another anonymous twink in tight clothes gyrating to whatever the DJ is playing.
The only unusual thing about him is that he has a personal cheering section.
The dynamic isn’t something the two of them have talked about, exactly. But when Yanli draws the attention of another dancer, he knows that he can grind up against them on the dance floor all he wants, and back at the bar Zixuan will be watching with shining eyes.
“My Yanli is the most handsome man at the club,” is what Zixuan will be thinking. “He could have anyone in this room but somehow he wants to go home with me!”
The knowledge adds an extra frisson of pleasure to everything Yanli does. Zixuan is watching him, admiring him, completely besotted with him. No matter what he does, Zixuan is delighted at the privilege of getting to see.
Tonight, along with tight black jeans and his most supportive boots, Yanli’s wearing a purple mesh singlet. Yanli doesn’t usually wear polyester, but the texture of this shirt isn't too bad, and for a garment this nonexistent, breathability is not a concern. Everyone’s sweaty in here anyway, and sharing their sweat around.
With the dancer behind Yanli looming over him, hands on the back of his shoulders, Yanli feels his own power. Here, with the beat thudding through his whole body and energy fizzing under his skin, he’s a commanding presence, and he doesn’t have to overthink the space he takes. He draws attention, but there’s no need to talk to anyone, make eye contact with anyone. Talking is impossible through the raw noise of the music; bodies do the talking instead. Yanli’s body knows this kind of conversation.
As the DJ transitions them to the next song, Yanli thinks about Zixuan working to catch glimpses of him through the crowd, tabulating his admirers. If he weren’t already sticky-hot from the heat of the room, Yanli would be flushing from the thought. He turns towards the man behind him, a solid sturdy body to lean into, tilting his own face upward with insistence. The man obliges and mashes their faces together in a slick and sweaty kiss. Panting into the man’s mouth, trembling with the force of the kiss, Yanli twists his fingers in the collar of the other man’s shirt collar. Polyester again, but despite the texture Yanli needs something to hold onto, because god, this guy’s a good kisser, his tongue insistent, the pressure of his lips just right.
Yanli is throbbing between his legs from the pleasure and promise of kissing, but the sensation merges with the way the music makes his whole self throb, until the only thing to do about it is to dance. He breaks off the kiss with a wild smile for his anonymous partner and throws himself deeper into the crush of dancers.
By the time Yanli is done for the night, he’s exhausted and his throat is dry and everything hurts. He feels amazing.
Over at the bar, Zixuan waits. His face breaks open in uncomplicated joy to see Yanli approach. Zixuan has a glass of water waiting for him, no ice, just the way he likes it. He downs it gratefully and tugs on Zixuan's hand.
They leave the club arm in arm; Yanli is grateful for his husband’s support, and unabashedly leans into him. Zixuan helps him into the passenger seat, turns up the driving playlist, and drives him home to the slow rhythmic beats of the music. Lights flicker through the windows, nonsense signals to Yanli's tired eyes.
“We’re home,” Zixuan murmurs into the silence when the car is off and his phone has disconnected. Yanli starts a little, and lists in Zixuan’s direction. He kisses the top of Yanli’s head, so, so soft.
“Mnrghb?” is all Yanli manages to say. The power of speech feels far away. He’s deliciously dreamy and it almost doesn't feel real when Zixuan picks him up and carries him inside, cleans him up and takes off his clothes, tucks him into bed. Before Yanli knows it he’s cuddling his beloved husband in their fancy ergonomic bed, and just like that, he’s asleep.
---
The next morning, with nothing in the calendar, Yanli curls up against Zixuan on their mid-century modern couch with a bowl of hot dry noodles. Yanli’s icing his sore feet while he eats, and Zixuan tells him all about what he noticed the night before. Zixuan is quick to judge and has plenty to say about why none of the men at the club would be deserving of Yanli. But in victory he’s magnanimous: each of the men Yanli danced with had enough good taste to recognize Yanli’s superiority, so none of them could have been too bad.
“And the one I kissed?” Yanli says, his sauce-coated lips curved in an impish smile. Last night was the first time he’s added making out to his clubbing, but it feels like a natural extension of what he’s always done.
"Not bad,” Zixuan allows. “He kissed you the way you needed it, and he didn't stop you when you wanted to move on. Very respectful. Bad moustache, though. And his shirt was cheap.”
Yanli giggles around a mouthful of noodles. Zixuan is right about the shirt, but the moustache was kind of fun to experience. “He got me so turned on with that kiss. I did need it.”
“It was amazing to watch. Yanli, Yanli, you should have seen the way he looked at you when you left him! He wanted you so badly.”
“He got all of me he's getting,” Yanli says with satisfaction. “The rest of me is for you.”
Zixuan goes gratifyingly pink. Yanli’s smile widens. “How hard were you, last night, watching me?”
A squeak from Zixuan; it’s his turn to lose his words, evidently. Yanli loves that he can have this effect, loves that he’s become confident enough to say such shameless things.
“Poor Zixuan, I got you all worked up yesterday and you couldn’t do anything about it!” Yanli’s tone is teasing, and Zixuan looks at him with big eyes. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you now, I’ll take care of you.”
Yanli puts aside his bowl of noodles; he was nearly done with them anyway. The ice pack is abandoned on the floor. With one hand Yanli caresses Zixuan’s face, while the other goes for Zixuan’s silk pajama pants. Zixuan is sweetly pliant under Yanli’s ministrations. A few light strokes to Zixuan’s cock inside his pants and he’s moaning breathily and collapsing sideways onto the decorative cushions. Yanli climbs on top of him, hand still working, but Yanli’s knees have nowhere to go. The couch is stylish but it’s barely comfortable for sitting on, much less anything else.
Maybe the floor. Zixuan got them that nice sheepskin rug for cushioning Yanli’s feet. No, Yanli doesn’t want to risk getting anything on it and then having to clean it, that will just lead to felting the wool. He’d better take Zixuan all the way back to the bedroom.
Yanli stands up and pulls on Zixuan’s hand. As always, Zixuan follows him, trusting, adoring. What a sweet husband he has. Yanli directs him onto the bed and climbs back on top of him, straddling his legs. When Yanli’s hand gets back to Zixuan’s cock, Zixuan gasps with shocked pleasure, like he forgot he had a cock that could be touched.
"I've got you, I've got you,” Yanli croons as Zixuan falls apart beneath his fingers. “What do you need? Do you need more?”
Zixuan manages to nod, his face squeezed up in agonized pleasure. Just what Yanli was hoping. Yanli is feeling pretty worked up too, at this point, with all of Zixuan trembling beneath him. He reaches for the bedside table; Yanli’s dick and harness are still sitting on top of it, next to his medication bottles and a book he keeps meaning to read. Cleaned but not put away after last time. Yanli grabs the lube first.
One finger teasing at the rim of Zixuan’s hole, then two, then Yanli plunges both in at once. Zixuan begins to cry; overstimulation, Yanli knows. Zixuan likes it that way. His fingers still driving deep into Zixuan, Yanli leans forward to kiss the tears from Zixuan’s face, and is rewarded with whimpers and a fresh burst of tears. “My sweet darling,” Yanli murmurs. “So good for me. You're so good. You can take it.”
Zixuan nods frantically, desperately. He needs it. He wants it, wants everything Yanli will give him.
Yanli doesn’t want to have to stop what he’s doing, but he needs to retreat for a moment to get the harness on and his dick strapped in place. Watching Zixuan writhe helplessly, alone in bed, Yanli can't help but pause more than once in the process. He needs to give Zixuan another kiss, another caress, even if that makes preparations take longer.
When his dick is firmly settled in its harness, Yanli eases Zixuan over onto his front, pushes a pillow beneath his hips, pulls his pajama pants down lower. Zixuan goes easily wherever Yanli puts him. Then Yanli's dick is at Zixuan’s hole, pressing in. This dick is a small one; Zixuan’s ass can’t take anything big. Yanli’s bigger dicks are for Zixuan’s mouth or thighs. Today’s dick sinks smoothly into Zixuan, all the way to where it’s held by its harness, and Zixuan begins to sob. Yanli is groaning himself, so turned on he can barely think anymore. “That’s right, let it all out,” he tells Zixuan. “Cry all you need, I'm here for you.” Then he begins fucking Zixuan in earnest.
This too is a dance for Yanli. Like at the club, his body understands what to do. He chases his own pleasure, knowing that Zixuan wants him to. He fucks into Zixuan with quick snaps of his hips, the base of his dick grinding into him at just the right spot, and his hands roaming over Zixuan’s smooth back.
Zixuan is grinding his own hips into the pillow beneath him, and he reaches his peak first, shivering through his climax. Utterly spent, Zixuan’s tears slow down, even as Yanli keeps fucking him through his overstimulation. Each time Yanli’s dick slams back into him, a little “oh!” escapes his mouth; otherwise he's motionless, sweat gleaming on his shoulders and snotty tears congealed on his face. “Perfect, you're so perfect for me,” Yanli babbles, and it’s true, it’s so true, he is, and Yanli is so lucky to have him.
Then Yanli is coming too, pleasure coiled up and sparking through his every nerve. He collapses where he is, dick still buried inside Zixuan, overwhelmed. He can just reach the bedside table where his phone is in its dock, and with trembling fingers he connects it to the bluetooth speakers installed in the corners of the room. Music begins to pound, insistent and penetrating. The beat provides a framework for Yanli to focus his thoughts around, and a rhythm for his heart to follow.
“My love,” Yanli says to Zixuan, still beneath him. Yanli feels full to bursting with joyful happiness. “Mmmm,” Zixuan says in return, sounding just as heartfelt. Yanli kisses the nape of his neck amongst the wispy strands of his hair, again and again.
The sun is streaming in through their bedroom window, giving the pale yellow walls a shining glow. The rest of their Saturday morning stretches open in front of them with no plans or commitments to drive them into action. They can stay like this as long as they want.
Afterword:
1. yes zixuan is still lying in his own wet spot on the pillow beneath him. it’s super gross and he loves it bc it’s something yanli did to him/for him. plus he doesn’t want to have to move bc then maybe yanli would take his dick out of zixuan’s hole.
2. it’s not important to the fic but in my mind the dude at the club who yanli kisses is nmj. and yes I DO have a whole idea of what he gets up to after the fic! talk to me if you want to hear about it - it involves 3zun being disasters (affectionate)
Comments:
I don't yet have commenting set up on my site so if you want to leave a comment, please go to the AO3 version of this fic.