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How many beatings could a man truly take? It seemed this was a question Lan Wangji was out to answer, ever-hungry to see if he could raise the number, even as the wounds scattered across his back were not yet done healing.
It had been many months since the pretty face he'd fallen in love with, and so intimately trusted, had seen the bitter release of death. The pain of that day, strong as it had been, was no less numb now... be it from the sting of his punishments, or something else entirely. Something deeper, which lead him to the doors of the library, before which he stood with an air of tension so palpable, perhaps any passing Lan disciple might notice it.
Now, however, was simply not a time to be worried about anyone or anything else. If there was ever fear in the man's demeanor, it was never visible, and so he proceeded forth, having already demanded to be left with time to study undisturbed. The way the doors breathed for him were so forgiving, at least, in the wake of the stubborn barrier that had been cast across the much darker part of the library. Even Lan Wangji had never before dared to pass the threshold into the bowels of that building without permission, because such a section was labeled FORBIDDEN for good reason. In the wrong hands, one could find wicked tricks, crooked cultivation, and deviant tactics in spoils in such a place. Or.... one could simply find the deepest part of his primal desires.
For the moment, his body remained stiff, purposeful and businesslike as those golden eyes scanned the covers of texts and edges of scrolls that were not meant to be viewed by anyone in the Lan sect for any reason at all. Were he a lesser man, that deadly gaze might be tempted towards a book of songs that matched its lethality, but perhaps a lesser man would also be there for the same purpose Wangji was that morning. Before he knew it, the careful motions of his delicate, yet calloused hands would bring him to the beginning of a stack of books that was simply not meant to be in the possession of someone the world thought so pure.
The title, Tales of Dual Cultivation, was the first in a series of four graphic novels, of which each edition was meant to appeal to a certain... demographic of people. By irself, dual cultivation was not at all forbidden, of course. It was a highly-touted state for two cultivators to reach together, and within the Lan clan, it was even more well-respected, due to the nature of their chastity. Such novels, however... made a sort of mockery out of such an honor. Though he wished they would've been named something else, he knew by overhearing things about it before that these were among the best of the best of their genre.
With a soundless breath, that steely gaze flicked up to ensure none had dared to follow him down, and only when Lan Zhan was certain he was truly alone, did he dare to heft that stack of novels onto a desk before him, dropping down and pulling the first part away from the stack as he urged his own body to relax. As if it needed further convincing, before he even considered the contents of the literature that lay before him, his hands went ever-so-diligently to his robes, which he began to undo and strip away until he was positioned completely bare atop a hefty pile of fabric. Such a sight would surely have been gorgeous, were he not about to commit an atrocity so sinful, he would've thought to ban himself from his home, had he not accepted enough punishment already.
With a small jar of oil, which he'd been keeping on his person, settled down on the desk beside it, he finally broke the surface of his insubordination as he flipped that book open, choosing a random page within the 'easy' section to start. Such a page made it hard to ignore the gentle burn of his ears, as the full spread before him was of a woman making use of her soft palms to pleasure a man. This volume of Dual Cultivation was geared towards male and female couples, apparently. So, to comply with the graphic for what he felt would be the desired effect, he closed his eyes and leaned back, making rather firm purchase of his own shaft as he relaxed. Carefully, he tried to imagine the same nude woman poised before him, holding onto him, yet her face was too hard to make out. "Slowly," He muttered, commanding her to start as he began to run his hand up and down his own length. Between his fingers, the poor thing was flaccid, and even the small jolts of heat did little more than get him irritably bothered. Imagining that woman giggling at him, mocking him, those eyes snapped open once again as his harshest tone barked out, "Leave."
As if on command, her grinning visage and shapely body was gone, returned to the paper in artistic form. Briefly, he offered that particular page a scowl, moving on to another in hopes that she wouldn't be there, too. She couldn't help him, he insisted, and when he found that same dainty face on every page, he spared no mercy as he threw the novel across the room. It seemed imagining that woman servicing him wasn't going to help. And, to make matters worse, his fit of irritation had killed whatever start of an erection there might've been.
Fine. The first volume was a bust, so what about the second? Surely, there must have been different women in there. And, in fact, there was different women. Many different women, with many different faces, but not a single man to be found. Rather than turned on... Lan Zhan found himself horrifically embarrassed. Whatever his preference, he felt absolutely perverse, staring at two women kissing and cuddling and doing things he never should've been allowed to see. Gently, he closed that volume and set it aside, apologizing in silence to the women who were only drawings to begin with.
Thus far, his plan to light a fire within himself had largely been a bust, and though he still had two more volumes laid out before him, he was beginning to feel apprehensive that either was going to work at all. The third volume looked promising, as he opened it... however, he discovered that these ideas were for three, five, ten people at once-- and that was something he wasn't capable of, no matter how much power he may have had. With a frustrated sigh, that volume was cast aside, too, and he made the silent decision that if this one didn't work... he was just going to give up and go off to soak in the cold springs for a while.
So, with heavily-lowered expectations, he referred himself to the final installment in Dual Cultivation, which he could only hope beyond hope... was what he was really looking for. Splitting it down the middle, and opening up to the central page, he was met with two men of average quality, and a thankful breath escaped him. Taking a long moment to memorize the sequence of events depicted before him, he allowed the world to disappear behind his lids again as he began to follow along.
Thoughtfully, he painted a picture of a well-built male laid out before him, though it seemed this man was largely hidden in shadow. Besides his hands, all Lan Zhan could make out of this mystery partner was that cheeky grin, which was heart-throbbingly charming, rather than irritatingly mocking. Already, he could feel a much different sort of heat begin to overtake his body, and as he imagined those hands, his own digits played the part. After a deft reach to dip his fingers in oil, they returned to the sensitive nubs on his chest, rubbing and pinching dutifully in a way that forced an almost-inaudible groan from his throat. In response, his shadow-cloaked partner chuckled softly, in a way so warm and sweet, the young Jade thought he was going to melt already. As his breathing began to lose its steadiness, he moved a hand away from his chest, trailing it slowly down his side, and drawing out a sudden shudder. That figure, too, began to move, and the lower he crouched, the more his toned build seemed to come to light.
It was clear this man was a cultivator, himself, though his natural bulk gave away that he worked on himself physically as much as spiritually. Tousled hair fell over bare shoulders, and, Lan Zhan took a moment to note, it seemed to be a bit wavy. As his partner bent further over, he noticed how incredibly luscious those bare cheeks were, and as much as he desired to reach out and grab them to find out for himself, his wandering hand finally made its way back, bringing with it a tepid wetness of oil around his member that forced the Lan man to unmask that face as juicy lips began to suckle teasingly lightly around his member.
In his mind's eye, playful pools of silver stared up at him, and as he picked up the vigor with which he slicked and stroked his own member, he managed to choke out in a semi-desperate groan, "Nh-- Wei Ying...!" The face before him responded with a hum he couldn't feel, as if he was truly enjoying this. So, grabbing at the edge of the desk as if grabbing for that supple ass, he instead began to fuck his own hand, pushing that imaginary Wei Ying backwards until he could hear the man's choking and moaning in the back of his head. Ignoring the protesting creak of the wood beneath him, he pounded into that pretty face harder and faster, panting as that desk gave out beneath his force, and left him screwing the man he'd lost straight into the floor.
A white-hot flash of pleasure was soon to follow, causing him to grip himself exceptionally hard as his seed splattered across the library floor. Wuxian diligently swallowed, and sat up to offer his waiting lips a tender kiss, before dissipating into the same haze through which he'd appeared. As the scene of the library slowly came back to life before his eyes, he stared at the place where his Wei Ying once was, feeling a dull ache in his heart when he was met with nothing but a messy floor.
He would have to return to the library more often.