The crimson mansion was silent, glowing with soft candlelight and the hush of anticipation. Outside, the moon was high, casting silver shadows through gauzy curtains. Inside, Xie Lian stood at the threshold of Hua Cheng's chambers, wearing only the black silk robe that whispered over his skin like a secret.
It was Hua Cheng's birthday. And tonight, he had made a choice.
When he entered, Hua Cheng turned to greet him—and stilled.
His gaze was slow, deliberate, trailing from the bare curve of Xie Lian's collarbone down to where the robe cinched loosely at his waist, barely hiding more than it revealed. His red eye burned low like an ember.
"Gege…" His voice was thick, restrained. "You…"
Xie Lian looked up, his cheeks warm, his heartbeat uneven. "For you."
Hua Cheng crossed the room in a breath, his hand coming up—but stopping just shy of touching. "Are you sure?"
Xie Lian reached for him, fingers gently curling around his wrist, guiding it to his waist. "Yes."
The first kiss was reverent. The second was not.
Clothes fell away in silence, piece by piece. Xie Lian's robe slipped from his shoulders, pooling at his feet like shadow. He shivered—partly from the cool air, mostly from the weight of Hua Cheng's gaze.
Hua Cheng touched him as if memorizing—every curve, every breath, every trembling inch. Xie Lian had never known what it felt like to be seen so completely. It made his chest ache. It made his knees weak.
And when they finally lay together, skin to skin, there was no hesitation.
Xie Lian had imagined this moment before—quietly, shamefully, in the dark—but nothing had prepared him for the sensation of Hua Cheng's body against his. Warm, solid, grounding. He gasped softly as hands slid along his thighs, drawing him closer, steady and certain. Every kiss was slow and consuming, every movement deliberate. There was nothing rushed. No fumbling. No shame.
Only him.
Only them.
Xie Lian's breath came faster as he was gently guided beneath Hua Cheng's body, his hands trembling as they clung to strong shoulders. The first touch—where it mattered most—made his whole body tense.
It was strange. Sensitive. Almost too much. His muscles tightened, his throat caught a breath.
Hua Cheng stopped instantly.
"Gege," he murmured, brushing sweat-damp hair from Xie Lian's temple. "Breathe. I'm here."
Xie Lian nodded faintly, fingers digging into his back. "Don't stop. I want… I want to feel you."
Hua Cheng whispered something soft—an endearment, a vow—and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
As they moved together, slowly and carefully, Xie Lian's nerves melted into something warmer. Full. Deep. It hurt a little—but it was a grounding ache, something raw and real that came with opening himself completely. It felt like letting someone into a place he'd kept locked his whole life.
He held on tightly, breath stuttering as pleasure built in slow, aching waves. Everything blurred—the scent of sandalwood, the warmth of skin, the pressure, the heat, the sound of Hua Cheng whispering his name like a prayer.
By the time the end came—quiet, breathless, and overwhelming—Xie Lian's eyes were damp, but not from pain.
From relief. From love. From the unbearable tenderness of being held afterward like he was precious, like nothing in the world could matter more than this moment.
After, they lay tangled together in soft sheets, their bodies still pressed close, the world silent around them.
Hua Cheng's hand stroked slowly down his back, tracing the dip of his spine. "You were perfect."
Xie Lian rested his forehead against Hua Cheng's neck, smiling faintly. "I was scared."
"I know," Hua Cheng whispered. "But you were brave. You gave me something I'll never forget."
Xie Lian closed his eyes, body sore and blissfully heavy. "Happy birthday, San Lang."
Hua Cheng kissed his temple. "It was the most sacred gift I've ever received."
To be continued.