[ even now, perhaps especially now, the daozhang are worlds apart from him. they have the luxury to consider things such as morals, perceived fall from grace in xingchen's case or not. xue yang's heart has always been a mass grave, an unspeakable tragedy for it to exist at all. if there is rot in xiao xingchen now, it is only because the decay in xue yang has taken hold, in that much he and song lan are in agreement.
and perhaps this is perverse, perhaps it is some wretched, twisted thing. xue yang would agree with that as well, because he has never known anything truly good. if he enjoys it, if he desires it, if he is able to have it, there must be something wrong. he could never have had xiao xingchen without the loss of the man's eyes, of his only love. he could have no part of song lan either without the death xue yang caused with his own two hands.
to have a single taste of this sweetness, xue yang had to drench all three of them in blood.
and still, he continues to drag them each under, with the relentlessness of someone who knows he cannot be saved, but does not want to go into the dark alone.
when xiao xingchen discovers his little act of rebellion, he lets out a muffled laugh, a low rumble where his lips are wrapped prettily around his prize. then he takes song lan's cock in deeper, down to the base, swallowing as it hits the back of his throat with practiced ease. he pulls back slow, then bobs his head down again— there's a tease in his mind, playful words he would otherwise speak, but.
he knows he's not welcome here, not truly. better to be a means to an end, to give xiao xingchen some small gift in return for all he's taken away. ]
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and perhaps this is perverse, perhaps it is some wretched, twisted thing. xue yang would agree with that as well, because he has never known anything truly good. if he enjoys it, if he desires it, if he is able to have it, there must be something wrong. he could never have had xiao xingchen without the loss of the man's eyes, of his only love. he could have no part of song lan either without the death xue yang caused with his own two hands.
to have a single taste of this sweetness, xue yang had to drench all three of them in blood.
and still, he continues to drag them each under, with the relentlessness of someone who knows he cannot be saved, but does not want to go into the dark alone.
when xiao xingchen discovers his little act of rebellion, he lets out a muffled laugh, a low rumble where his lips are wrapped prettily around his prize. then he takes song lan's cock in deeper, down to the base, swallowing as it hits the back of his throat with practiced ease. he pulls back slow, then bobs his head down again— there's a tease in his mind, playful words he would otherwise speak, but.
he knows he's not welcome here, not truly. better to be a means to an end, to give xiao xingchen some small gift in return for all he's taken away. ]