#tianxi are cis+ here

[corduroyserpent]

“How do I look?” Tianlang-Jun steps out from behind a floral screen, already posing with his chin placed delicately against the back of his hand. His dark claws are hidden for the moment and the vibrant red of his nail dye nearly matches the gentle dashes of rouge across his cheeks and lips.

Su Xiyan has been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and she straightens her spine now that the wait is over. The faint sound of other inn guests wanes as she steps deeper into the cozy room she purchased for the night. Having changed into Tianlang-Jun’s robes in far less time than it took him to put on hers, she has had ample space in which to grow used to the trailing sleeves and ill-fitting length. She moves slowly, with grace, so that she does not trip over a dark hem embroidered with a swirling golden pattern.

Her own clothes are less ostentatious, though she also prefers to wear black. She can’t quite say that her robes suit Tianlang-Jun—her lover is taller and has more width at his back and thighs—but with the demure way he’s holding himself, his hair devoid of ornamentation, a certain beauty emerges.

Not to mention her belt hugs his waist in a way that should be against the law.

“Well?” Tianlang-Jun lowers his voice, peeking at her from beneath long eyelashes. “Don’t be shy, my dear. Tell me I’m pretty.”

Su Xiyan says, “Your shoulders are too broad. Take it off.”

“Eh?” Tianlang-Jun’s tapered brows pull together as he’s caught between dismay and confusion. “What’s wrong with having broad shoulders?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want you to tear my clothes.”

“Ah, but my Xiyan is so affluent. Surely she can afford a new set of robes.” Tianlang-Jun’s smile returns. “Though why bother, when you can simply wear mine?”

She hums in neutral acknowledgement, distracted by his mouth. The deep red stain in the middle of his lips. She doesn’t wear any cosmetics so she’s uncertain where he procured his. That silent nephew, most likely. Regardless of where he got it, he looks unreasonably good.

“Oh, I almost forgot about these.” He takes out the small black stones set in his earlobes and offers them to her. “Trade with me.”

She reaches up to remove her earrings—a pair of azure flowers each with a dangling stem of silver. They were a gift from her shizun. She holds no emotional attachment to them. And Tianlang-Jun, it turns out, wears them better than she ever has.

Su Xiyan takes him by the chin, tilting his head down. “You are pretty, aren’t you?” 

“Devastatingly so,” Tianlang-Jun agrees, gaze unfocused from the shrinking proximity. “You had better hurry and make me your wife before my beauty captures the heart of another.”

She doesn’t allow his eager lips to land, turning his head away. Undeterred, he kisses her high on the cheek, just under her eye. 

“You’ll leave a mark,” she chides.

“Don’t I always?” Tianlang-Jun wets the pad of his thumb and rubs at the pink stain. He clicks his tongue, sheepish but far from apologetic. “I think I’m making it worse.”

“Coincidentally,” she says, “that is also something you always do.”

Besides, it’s not as if they have anywhere to be. Su Xiyan wouldn’t have agreed to this little dress-up game otherwise.

Tianlang-Jun takes her ribbing with good humor, and this time his lips do manage to capture hers. Tianlang-Jun kisses her, rapturous and slow, taking his time to enjoy her like she’s a well-loved copy of his favorite play.

Heat slides through her, warm and comfortable and embarrassing. She nips at his bottom lip, growing restless with desire. Her feelings for him are a terrible nuisance. It would be better if she liked him less, if she didn’t crave him during the days they were apart, but she can’t help it. 

Her shizun would be furious if he knew.

Good.

She breaks the kiss, tugging at Tianlang-Jun’s collar. “I was serious before. Take this off.” 

“What a scoundrel you are,” Tianlang-Jun says, playing the scandalized maiden. His voice goes soft and his eyelashes quiver. “Getting me alone, begging for me to remove my clothes in front of you—ah, Xiyan, we can’t. It’s not proper.”

“Shall I disrobe first?”

Tianlang-Jun gasps. “Heavens, no!” He pulls away dramatically, a hand to his head. His other hand stays at her waist because he’s absolutely incorrigible. “How would I resist the nude form of such a handsome young cultivator? We can’t, my darling, we mustn’t.”

He’s so annoying. She needs him. Desperately. 

Face impassive except for a telling flush at her ears, she pushes him towards the bed. He “resists” which mainly involves a good deal of making whimpering noises that no one in real life has ever made, and shamelessly feeling her up as he pretends to fight against her.

When he trips backwards onto the bed—his own doing—his hair spreads out around his head in a wavy puddle of deep black. He says, “You must take responsibility if you do this.”

Su Xiyan climbs on top, her legs bracketing his thighs. She’s breathless for some reason. Tianlang-Jun’s acting is atrocious but the robes and the rouge and his long eyelashes… She slides her thumb along his bottom lip. 

“I suppose I can.” She slips her thumb into his mouth. He closes his lips around it, eyes heavy-lidded but focused on her own. “If my wife insists.”

Tianlang-Jun’s breath stutters. She feels it. And there’s another thing she can feel awakening beneath her.

“Well?” She moves her thumb. Small, subtle in and out motions. Tianlang-Jun’s tongue drags against her and when she finally pulls free, his chin jolts up as if in chase. “Is that what my wife wants?”

Tianlang-Jun circles his arms around her neck and says, starry-eyed, “Yes, husband.”

Su Xiyan kisses him, deeply, feverishly, no longer able to pretend she could bear to hold back.

And all through the night until morning (plus a while after) she makes certain to take very good care of her wife.

[also on ao3]