Work Text:
Lan Xichen thinks that it must be illegal, how addicting his husband's lips are.
Sometimes they're soft, sometimes a little chapped, but always so, so sweet. And the sounds! The sounds that Lan Xichen could draw from them; surprised chirps, contented sighs, long, drawn-out moans of ecstasy...they all rang in his ears at a frequency that resonated with the very essence of his being.
He thinks his favourite kisses might be the ones they shared on lazy weekend mornings. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush their teeth, Lan Xichen could spend hours afterwards laying on his side under the warm covers, exchanging 'hello's and 'good morning's and 'I've missed you's with his husband via the gentle slide of their lips. Jiang Cheng always responded to that last message with a laugh, but Lan Xichen liked kissing his teeth, too, because it meant that his husband was smiling (and more importantly, that his husband was smiling at him).
If he had to choose, his second favourite kisses would be the ones they shared when Lan Xichen left for work in the mornings, always trying to beat the rush of the commute before it could drown him in its masses. "One for the road?" He would ask, as he bent his head down towards him while putting on his shoes, and to which Jiang Cheng would always reply, "How about two? Just to be sure." He would smile, then, so completely enamored that more frequently than not Jiang Cheng would be slapping at his shoulders and pushing him out the door, because he just couldn't resist asking for just a few more, my love.
He liked to use them to keep him warm throughout the day, and he knew his husband would only scoff and call him a sap if he knew how often Lan Xichen thought of him. But Jiang Cheng would ultimately indulge him anyways, so really, he was just enabling him.
But then of course, there were the kisses they shared when they were also sharing each other's bodies, gasping and open and usually not much more than an exchange of breaths and the occasional bite of teeth. There was no sweeter pleasure that Lan Xichen knew of, than when his hands and his mouth coordinated to draw his husband as taut as the string of a bow, and then released that tension as Jiang Cheng’s back arched with as much grace and beauty as the parabola an arrow flew in its search for somewhere to land.
And Lan Xichen found his mark, every single time.
This was all just to say that he was a goner, head over heels and every single cliche metaphor for in love that he could think of. But it was hard not to be, when he had his hands around his husband's waist and his mouth on his, and the only thought that ran through his mind then was always just a simple request, the bared and naked question of please, can you kiss me more?