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The curtain of long, dark hair falls over Wei Wuxian's shoulders and back, sticking to where his sweat drips down his neck and down the line between the two of them. Lan Zhan is plastered against his back in an almost embrace. Hot, sweaty, and intimate in the skin to skin fever that only makes Wei Wuxian moan louder. Lan Zhan is buried deep within him, taking him at a slow, steady, relentless pace while Wei Wuxian cries and moans into the circle of his arms and sheets. He's overstimulated, having come twice already, but Lan Zhan is insatiable today and who is Wei Wuxian to deny him? Indeed, he is an obliging accomplice in the act. Lan Zhan is mostly quiet, apart from the occasional grunt of effort, and he cannot take it.
"Lan Z-Zhan," he stutters in between thrusts, and the warm blanket of a husband draped across his back stills momentarily.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan whispers, hoarse, and places soft kisses along Wei Wuxian's spine. He pulls out and pushes in again, slow and careful and absolutely fucking excruciating. "Wei Ying." All thoughts dissipate and Wei Wuxian shudders as his third orgasm of the night hits him. Everything goes a bit blurry and dark after that.
But that was before, Wei Wuxian tells himself as he opens his eyes to the empty Jingshi. There is so much sun coming in that it's hard to believe spring has just barely started. The last time he performed his favorite husbandly duties was next to the crackle and warmth of a fire, intensified by the warmth of Lan Zhan's body surrounding him. But of course he'd behaved like an idiot, and the next insufferable wave of heat was born within him as a fever, burning through his entire body.
Next time, don't tease your husband by running out naked into the snow so he had to come and manhandle you back into the house, Wei Wuxian thinks, and discards the thought almost immediately. The cough and fever were definitely worth the sex that followed. Missing the night hunt with the juniors, less so. But, bed rest it was, and despite trying, he was not allowed to leave the Jingshi lest he met Zewu Jun's sad, worried face, or worse yet, his disappointed one. Lan Zhan, the crafty asshole, picked the perfect nanny for him. Sentenced to forced convalescence and beyond annoyed at missing the chance to night hunt with his favorite disciples, he couldn't help but poke at his - and Mo Xuanyu's - tightly wound, peanut sized golden core. Stupid.
He has recovered, and along with him, his healthy libido. However, according to the message conveyed to him by Lan Xichen, the night hunt has outgrown its original length. Which is why Wei Wuxian finds himself alone in the sunny Jingshi, remembering all the nights before he got sick. He misses his husband.
He closes his eyes again, bringing Lan Zhan back to him, exactly as he was when Wei Wuxian climbed his lap and licked up the fine column of his throat. He opens his mouth to exhale like he did when he lowered himself onto Lan Zhan's waiting cock and gasped, pushing Lan Zhan flat onto the bed. He circles back to the moment when he was about to sway back and push his hands out to support himself as he was bouncing, fucking himself on Lan Zhan's length, but Lan Zhan grasped Wei Wuxian's wrists where they were resting on his chest and held tightly.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whispers, both in memory and in the cold empty Jingshi. His hand sneaks down under the covers where he is already painfully hard and leaking. "Lan Zhan," he repeats and takes his own length, smearing precome. He tries to remember how it felt for Lan Zhan to fuck into him, the burning slide of his cock in Wei Wuxian's hole, leaking from all the oil he used to prep himself while Lan Zhan watched, eyes dark and hungry. He pumps himself, hard and fast, trying to remember the sweaty rhythm, the loud, heady slaps of flesh against flesh and the way Lan Zhan pulled him to his chest as he continued fucking him past his orgasm, past the aftershocks, and oversensitivity, all the while whispering "Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying" like a mantra until one "A-Ying" slipped against the crown of Wei Wuxian's head and they both came, Lan Zhan clutching onto him for dear life and Wei Wuxian a sobby, miserable mess of tears and sweat (and oil, and come).
"A-Ying," Wei Wuxian repeats now, and even though the tone is wrong, the memory pushes him to completion. And then he just lies there, sticky, breathless, and absolutely miserable. This won't do. This won't do at all. He cleans himself up as best he can and scrambles to dress.
He eats breakfast washed and dressed if only because of the disapproving look Lan Zhan would give him if he were next to him. He goes on a walk into the woods, feeds and cuddles the rabbits, wades into the cold spring, all in a desperate attempt to release the itch that has lodged itself beneath his skin where he can't scratch it. None of those things help.
As he strolls back to the Jingshi, he thinks that maybe he should write a letter. That, at least, would ease the pain of waiting. Paper surely can drink in all of his longing and desire. Even if Lan Zhan is never to see it, maybe it will help and tide Wei Wuxian over.
He sits at the table, spreads the calligraphy set, and gets to work.
Dearest Lan Zhan,
It's all he writes. The characters are as familiar to him as his own name, yet they stand out in stark blackness in the young spring sun splashed across the room. Wei Wuxian turns the page and starts again. Instead of characters, the strokes reveal a body. The brush stops and Wei Wuxian bites his tongue, then his knuckle. He sticks out his tongue and commits to paper what lives beneath his skin. One body, missed so dearly; the second one, borrowed, but his. In this, Wei Wuxian is the one on his back, and Lan Zhan sits, spine bent in pleasure, throat bared, eyes closed but with his face towards the sky. His wrists are tied with his forehead ribbon and Wei Wuxian sighs as he delineates the intricate cloud detail of the Gusu Lan onto the page. He paints some of the visible scars in careful strokes. Every crease of Lan Zhan's face is a delicate caress he would like to enact with his fingers on skin; every stroke of the brush paints black hair soft like he is using a comb instead. He paints Lan Zhan's length, hard, curved, leaking at the tip against his stomach. Wei Wuxian releases his tongue and sighs a heavy breath, would he enjoy this echoing in his mind. The Lan Zhan he’s painting does, but it is only a carefully crafted fantasy in Wei Wuxian’s mind, despite Wei Wuxian’s best attempts to be as accurate in his depiction as one can when drawing from memory.
He draws the rough shapes of the second body. Adds a ribbon to the outline of hair. Puts the brush down. He doesn't feel any better; if anything, the sorrowful feeling has burrowed even deeper into his chest, wounding tightly around his heart and throat.
"You're overreacting," he tells himself and the empty walls of the Jingshi. It also doesn't help.
It's the first time they have been separated for this long since they bowed to each other, and surely, if Lan Zhan has not come back yet, the night hunt requires a more thorough investigation than they both initially thought. And what are five days compared to thirteen years? Cold tendrils sneak up Wei Wuxian's spine, but at the same time, a sense of warmth rises from his chest to meet them halfway and dissipate. Wei Wuxian realizes he's started humming. He pauses, takes his dizi from its resting place on the table, and starts playing the familiar melody, letting it soothe his uneasy heart. The notes rise and fall, swell and match the beating in Wei Wuxian's chest. With every breath he takes, the small coil of his golden core unfurls and moves to the rhythm of the music.
He stops abruptly, startling even himself as he rushes to wipe at his face with the sleeve of his robe. He closes his eyes and breathes in, deep; releases the air and opens his eyes. They fall to the incense burner on the shelf. The tapir seems to stare at him mockingly.
And what are you staring at, Wei Wuxian thinks, before the thought hits him square in the face. The easiest solution to his problem has been staring at him for hours by now, if not days. He moves the dish to the table and stares at it. He feels judged. Couldn't a magical incense burner have a presence that's less accusatory?
"Aiya, I'm sure I can survive until Lan Zhan gets back," he tells the clay tapir. It seems unfair to use it alone. Wei Wuxian doesn't think that Lan Zhan would mind, exactly, but it has only been five days. One and a half, if he rules out the time he spent sleeping or barely conscious. At the same time, it feels like an eternity has passed. Wei Wuxian would very much like to be touched again.
The tapir's gaze is unrelenting.
Wei Wuxian decides to take a walk. The day is beautiful, the Cloud Recesses in the sun even more so, the snap of the winter air replaced by the fresh breath of spring. It's cold still, but the crisp air isn't as biting as he's used to in the winter months. He twirls his flute idly as he strolls in the backwoods, pets Lan Zhan's rabbits before plopping onto the ground next to them. He lies down facing the sun and closes his eyes.
He thinks about Lan Zhan's small smile whenever he or Lan Sizhui plays with the rabbits. He thinks about how soft Lan Zhan's lips are when he kisses him in the morning and in the evening. He thinks about all the longing that Lan Zhan must have felt when he was gone. Like Wei Wuxian's now, only multiplied a thousandfold. Would Lan Zhan choose to alleviate it if he could? His mind snaps back to the memory of the scar on Lan Zhan's chest. The simultaneous swell of warmth and ache in his ribcage sends tiny pangs of pain between his ribs, under his lungs. It seems hard to breathe until he lets his chest expand fully, pushing through the constriction. Eventually, he sits up and starts playing their melody again, letting his temporary sorrow melt away along with the notes of the song.
Wei Wuxian makes his way back to the Jingshi right as the sun is setting. There is food already waiting for him so he takes it inside and decides to eat before making any decisions with more lasting consequences. He ends up picking at his rice and threatening the incense burner with his chopsticks once or twice. It doesn't make him feel much better.
After dinner, he digs out a bottle of Emperor's Smile from under the floorboards and returns to his place in the staring contest. The familiar burn of the liquor relaxes something within him that has been tightly wound since the morning, if only just. He sighs and lights the incense in the unforgiving burner. He drinks the rest of alcohol while staring at the smoke pooling and rising from the dish. I must be very tired, Wei Wuxian thinks as he yawns. His eyes continue falling shut. He can't remember the moment he dozes off.
He opens his eyes to the dark sky and hardened ground at the edge of the cold springs. The moon reflects on the surface of the water. Wei Wuxian pulls himself up and toward the edge, and his own face greets him. In this dream, he looks like his first self, or how his first self would look like if he hadn't died. How did he manage to forget about that part, he asks himself, trying to shake off the initial shock. He splashes some of the cold water onto his face and yelps as a few drops sneak beneath his collar and slide down his back. He hears it then, the movement. He is not alone. He shouldn't be surprised, he thinks, but it is rather dark and the Gusu Lan are not exactly the night owl types.
"Wei Wuxian," comes a scandalized voice from the water, and Wei Wuxian grins.
"Lan Zhan," he says, wading in immediately, without taking any of his robes off. Lan Zhan, on the other hand, is mostly naked, and so very very young. And offended to his golden core. Wei Wuxian greets him, bowing his head, and uses the time to sneak glances at Lan Zhan's chest, untouched by the Wen iron. His back, too, must be unscarred.
Looking at the young Lan Zhan feels like a memory from a lifetime ago (and it is, after all) and Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath before meeting the pinched expression on his face. Gone is the softness around his eyes that, Wei Wuxian realizes with a sinking stomach, is reserved just for his family, of which he is currently not a member. His heart thumps inside his chest just above his budding core. Many have said that the Second Young Master Lan has gone soft-hearted, weak-willed in the face of the tricks of the Yiling Patriarch, and only Wei Wuxian knows that Hanguang-jun has never been weak in his convictions, never soft in his stalwart faith in the words of his clan.
Wei Wuxian smiles his brightest smile and looks at the dark sky. He knows which question to ask first.
"Is Second Young Master Lan still mad about the book?" he asks the sky, but can see Lan Zhan flinch in the corner of his eye.
"Wei Wuxian," Lan Zhan says, his voice a warning as cold as Bichen's blade.
"See, I thought it was a wonderful joke. Your face was precious; it's such a shame you couldn't see it." He plans to continue, but Lan Zhan straightens in a way that makes obvious his displeasure with the conversation. Typical. Wei Wuxian second-guesses his own stubbornness, but there is really no point. He sighs. "Lan Zhan," he says tiredly, like he would to his dear husband.
Lan Zhan must hear something in the name, because he doesn't immediately protest. Wei Wuxian takes it as a sign to proceed, steps closer. Lan Zhan doesn't run away (yet).
He's taller than this Lan Zhan, just barely, he finds out as he leans closer.
"I'm going to kiss you," Wei Wuxian whispers as he leans in and stops to look straight into Lan Zhan's eyes. He hopes he is not wrong about what he sees, because this could easily turn into a horrible nightmare. Lan Zhan is rooted to the spot, unmoving. Wei Wuxian closes the distance and kisses his closed mouth softly for as long as he thinks Lan Zhan will allow it.
No one follows him when he withdraws.
"We both know that you've thought about it. This and more." He whispers so as not to be overheard; slow, careful, deliberate. He waits for Lan Zhan to cast his silencing spell and retreat, but he doesn't. "I could teach you," Wei Wuxian continues softly, leaning so close they could just as well be touching. "I could teach you how to make it feel good so when you decide you want to take from me after all, you know what to seek." His eyes sweep across Lan Zhan's mouth and the reddened tip of his nose. Then, he waits. And waits. And waits. The cold of the spring seeps into his clothes, burrowing deep in his bones in a familiar, comforting way. It grounds him, but his equilibrium is like that of an overfilled tea cup, with Lan Zhan standing so close to him, sweltering hot despite the cold water.
"You could say no," Wei Wuxian says. (He can't. He won't.) "But you thought about trying it right away in the library, didn't you?" You can't beat truth, plain and simple.
The silence is long. It stretches for so long that Wei Wuxian's faith almost wavers; yet he knows he is right. What they have is proof enough against the rampant beating of his heart and his wild, panicked thoughts.
"Mn," Lan Zhan says to the dark water. Wei Wuxian's heart sings.
"Do you want me to kiss you again?"
"Yes." Lan Zhan seems to be taken aback by his own sincerity.
"You're hiding behind the wall of rules," Wei Wuxian says humorlessly, but with a smile, looking straight at Lan Zhan's face. "But sometimes even the Lan Sect rules can be wrong."
Lan Zhan's hand shoots out to grab Wei Wuxian's arm in a vice-like grip. Another warning. He smiles in reply.
"One day I'll prove it to you."
Wei Wuxian expects for his dream to end on a rather sour note. Instead, he is pulled by Lan Zhan out from the cold spring, who pauses only to put on his clothes, and towards the place he knows well, as Lan Zhan steers them in the direction of the Jingshi. He almost sags with relief, but the feeling is quickly replaced by the warmth of anticipation.
"I can walk by myself," Wei Wuxian says as Lan Zhan continues dragging him.
"Mn."
"And I know where we are going." The dragging does not cease, if anything, it grows in urgency. "How shameless," Wei Wuxian laughs and this time, it's genuine.
Lan Zhan huffs a quiet sound of annoyance and yanks him inside. His robes are wet and dirty by the time the door slides shut behind them. Wei Wuxian takes off his shoes and everything but his inner robe and pants while Lan Zhan lights the candles with an idle flick of his fingers, watching him all the while. He makes no move to take off his own clothing.
"Why were you at the cold springs so late? Isn't it already past your bedtime?" Wei Wuxian can't help but jab. This Lan Zhan is so easy to annoy; his nose and ears go pink. It seems the question hit closer to home than he anticipated.
"You said you already know," Lan Zhan says, stepping closer. His hands come up to Wei Wuxian's neck and stay there, two points of heat that make him shiver. He doesn't know whether it's because of the cold or something else entirely. The kiss comes fast, and it's nothing like the first. Lan Zhan opens for Wei Wuxian and gently presses until Wei Wuxian opens for him in return. Lan Zhan's warmth will never cease to surprise him, Wei Wuxian thinks as they kiss, long and deep and breathless. They part, and he makes a high keening noise despite himself. Young Lan Zhan hears every note and must deem it a worthy song, judging by how he cups the back of Wei Wuxian's neck and kisses him even deeper.
"You have thought about this," Wei Wuxian says, delighted, once they part for air. Lan Zhan's lips are plump and well-kissed and Wei Wuxian cannot stop himself from running his thumb along the bottom lip. He knows the expression in Lan Zhan's eyes well. The dark, hungry stare that tells him he's about to have the time of his life on his back, or on his stomach, or wherever and however Lan Zhan wishes.
"Mn," Lan Zhan concedes.
"So do you need me to show you anything, or do you want to take the lead?" Wei Wuxian asks. He looks Lan Zhan up and down, moving in closer to slide his outer robes off his shoulders. The inner robe doesn't hide a lot, and Wei Wuxian sighs at the outline of Lan Zhan's growing erection.
"I want everything," Lan Zhan says. His breath is heavy, and Wei Wuxian can feel himself get harder at the sight of Lan Zhan drinking up his touches like he is the guqin player and Lan Zhan his instrument.
"I don't know about everything," he says and pauses to yelp when Lan Zhan experimentally bites at his neck. "But some things can certainly be arranged."
"Everything," Lan Zhan repeats, looking deep into his eyes as he says it. He has to turn his head up a little, and Wei Wuxian's mind flashes back to all the moments where that usually happens. He relents. Even if not everything is within their reach now, he's never been the type to turn down a challenge, especially one that's nearly impossible. He smiles and nods, leaning in slightly to place a kiss on top of Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon. Lan Zhan shudders, moving his hands up to untie it.
"Can I?" he asks, once the ribbon is in his hands, and Wei Wuxian doesn't know what he is asking, but nods anyway. Lan Zhan drifts behind him, brushing his hair away with delicate sweeps of his fingers until it reveals Wei Wuxian's neck. He lets the cloud pattern fall between Wei Wuxian's collarbones before he ties the ribbon at the back of his neck to form a loose collar. Lan Zhan takes off Wei Wuxian's simple top knot, again running his hands through Wei Wuxian's hair in calm, steady strokes. When he's satisfied with whatever ritual this is, he moves back to face Wei Wuxian again.
"Is this all right?" Lan Zhan asks, his voice wavering. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and fights against his choked up throat, willing himself not to cry. He nods, and then a warm palm touches the ribbon at his throat, where outside this dreamstate, the sign of Jin Guangyao's string remains imprinted ever so vaguely, and a warm pair of lips touches his. As they kiss, breathing heavily against each other, Lan Zhan's warm palms sneak underneath Wei Wuxian's robe, tugging at it until it pools around Wei Wuxian's elbows. He lets it slip past his arms and fall to the floor. Lan Zhan touches his erection through the fabric of his pants and Wei Wuxian gasps loudly. He forces a laugh, still breathing through the excruciating torture of Lan Zhan's touch without any friction, and opens his eyes.
"Maybe you should put a silencing talisman on the house," he suggests. Lan Zhan's bright eyes blink up at him and he frowns once he processes what Wei Wuxian has said.
"Why would I?" the oh so very young Lan Zhan asks, and Wei Wuxian laughs again.
"I'm loud," he says. Lan Zhan's frown deepens.
"I want to hear it."
"You will, but so will the entire Cloud Recesses."
"Let them hear," Lan Zhan says after a short pause, unashamed, and Wei Wuxian realizes he was very wrong. This younger version of Lan Zhan is not any different from his Lan Zhan, stalwart and unyielding in his devotion. The answer seems to reach his cock faster than his brain, and he should probably not find Lan Zhan defying every possible Lan rule so attractive after everything they have been through. But he does, and he moans as he feels himself grow harder, and Lan Zhan must feel it too, because his eyes widen for a second before going dark with hunger. He takes his hand away and Wei Wuxian sags with relief; before he can move, though, the warmth is back and Lan Zhan's hands undress him completely. He tries to reciprocate, but Lan Zhan makes quick work of his own garments, tossing the wet white fabric aside despite Wei Wuxian's alarm.
Wei Wuxian lifts his hand and touches Lan Zhan's chest before his brain can catch up with the movement. The skin underneath his fingers is smooth and warm. He breathes in, trying to calm the flood of feelings rising up, threatening to overflow the surface. He slides his hand up and up, until he can touch Lan Zhan's face and bring him in for a deep kiss. They spend some more time just kissing, sliding in close and sharing body heat. Eventually, Wei Wuxian breaks the kiss.
"Bed," he says, hoarse. Lan Zhan, who looks thoroughly debauched even with his hair still pinned in his customary hairpiece, nods. He moves inward, towards the bed chamber, but Wei Wuxian stops him with a hand on his wrist. "We need oil."
"Mn," Lan Zhan replies and pulls Wei Wuxian along with him. The oil turns out to be where it always is.
"Lie down," Wei Wuxian says. Lan Zhan complies, but his eyes follow Wei Wuxian's every step as he climbs into bed, kneels between Lan Zhan's ankles and lies down on his stomach, face close to Lan Zhan's groin. He places a kiss on the inside of his left thigh, and Lan Zhan shivers all over.
"May I?" he asks, kissing the other thigh.
"Mn," Lan Zhan says, breathless. Wei Wuxian decides that he is going to make Lan Zhan talk. He alternates between kissing and licking his way up Lan Zhan's legs, listening to the small and sharp intakes of breath above him. Finally, he takes hold of Lan Zhan's cock and licks up a stripe from the balls to the leaking tip. Lan Zhan moans and bucks up, thrashes as the tip of his cock hits Wei Wuxian's hard palate. Wei Wuxian withdraws carefully, soothing Lan Zhan's trembling thighs with steady hands.
"Is everything," he tries to ask, but Lan Zhan cuts him off.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says breathily, forcing himself to look at Wei Wuxian. He almost immediately looks away. He's shaking, fighting the discipline ingrained so deep within him it may as well have been inherent.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says, trying to put as much confidence behind it as he can muster. "Lan Zhan, look at me," he repeats, and this time, Lan Zhan's eyes lift to look at him. He's red with exhaustion and yet, they only barely started. "We can stop."
"No!" he almost screams, startling himself as well as Wei Wuxian. "Wei Ying," he whispers, like it's a good answer to any question. Like it has always explained more than confounded everything and everyone.
"Let go," Wei Wuxian says, reaching to intertwine Lan Zhan's fingers with his. "I have you," he says, and of this, of this scrap of knowledge he can be sure. He will take care of his husband, in any form, no matter the cost. "I will take care of you," he says, squeezing Lan Zhan's fingers. He lifts himself, rearranges them so that Lan Zhan is a little higher up against the headboard. "Put your hand on my head," he instructs, and Lan Zhan does. "If I go too fast, pull my hair. Or just tell me to stop. I like having my hair pulled, so you might want to actually say it instead." He chuckles and places another kiss, this time, on Lan Zhan's chest.
Lan Zhan does not take his hand off his head entirely, but adjusts for the angle as Wei Wuxian goes back down. This time, as Wei Wuxian takes hold of Lan Zhan's erection, he looks up and focuses on maintaining eye contact. He dips his head and takes the tip of Lan Zhan's cock into his mouth, reveling in the familiar taste. Above him, Lan Zhan inhales deeply, gripping his hair harder. Wei Wuxian sucks and hums in satisfaction when Lan Zhan moans. He goes lower and pulls off entirely. There is a small tug at his hair and he almost laughs.
"I'm going to try and take in more," he says, and Lan Zhan moans in response. "And try to show you what we need the oil for. If you feel like you need to come, do." He lays a kiss on Lan Zhan's naked hip. "I want you to relax."
"Mn," Lan Zhan sounds in acknowledgment, but it's muffled by the blood in Wei Wuxian's ears as he pours some oil on his palm and tries to spread it somewhat evenly between his hands before meeting Lan Zhan's eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he says, and Lan Zhan's eyes widen a fraction, but Wei Wuxian is already gripping the base of his cock and swallowing him as far as he can with practiced ease. He bobs his head up and down, watching Lan Zhan moaning above him through his lashes until a second hand comes to grip his hair and Lan Zhan starts taking what he needs from him. Wei Wuxian groans loudly around the dick in his mouth, releasing air through his nose as the tip hits his soft palate and the back of his throat and the feeling of being used stokes the fire deep inside him. He feels feverish, his insides lit, set wildly ablaze as Lan Zhan bottoms out. .e takes his hand away to play with his balls while the other one finds Lan Zhan's entrance. He massages the rim in slow, careful circles as Lan Zhan gasps and moans above him. He manages to work the very tip of his index finger into Lan Zhan's soft heat when Lan Zhan stills suddenly, groaning, and releases. As surprised as he is, Wei Wuxian manages to swallow. It's only when he pushes up with his hands that he notices a thick strip connecting his lips with Lan Zhan's cock. Some come he hadn't quite managed to swallow trickles down the corner of his mouth. He's about to wipe it off with his hand when Lan Zhan slaps it away. Wei Wuxian looks at him, and Lan Zhan's eyes are half-lidded, mouth slack, but his movements are certain when he puts his hand on Wei Wuxian's face and swipes the come, pushing it back inside Wei Wuxian's mouth.
Wei Wuxian is pretty sure he's about to qi deviate. He falls onto his back and moves, seeking warmth, until his arm is touching Lan Zhan's side.
"I think I need a moment," he says. Lan Zhan, annoyingly, moves and doesn't stop when Wei Wuxian complains. He only registers his new position when Lan Zhan touches his straining erection and he hisses. "I'm fine, fine," he assures Lan Zhan immediately. Calloused fingers reappear again and Wei Wuxian tries to breathe, tries to center himself as much as possible. When he deems himself ready (he isn't), he opens his eyes to Lan Zhan carefully inspecting his cock. His brows are furrowed and he looks drunk. "Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks, as a cold wash of fear creeps down his neck and spine.
"Everything might indeed not be possible," Lan Zhan says and looks at him. The cold dissipates almost as fast as it appeared. Wei Wuxian laughs.
"I told you," he says, which doesn't seem to alleviate whatever Lan Zhan's worry is. "What's wrong?"
This time, even Lan Zhan's cheeks grow pink.
"How do I make Wei Ying feel good?" he asks, like it's a riddle without solution. Oh. Wei Wuxian disregards all the obvious yet incredibly unhelpful answers and what remains turns out to be a very good idea if the twitching of his cock is anything to go by.
"Do you think you can keep your thighs closed for me?" Lan Zhan nods, still unconvinced.
Wei Wuxian moves to the middle of the bed and lies down on his back.
"Sit on my stomach," he points down to himself as he spreads his legs and smears oil around and below his belly button. Lan Zhan does as instructed and Wei Wuxian drops more oil on his thighs, making sure to cover the backs of them, using the opportunity to squeeze Lan Zhan's ass.
"I thought you said something about my thighs," Lan Zhan points out dubiously.
"I'm getting to it! So impatient. I'm making sure there is enough," he trails off, looking for the right word. He waves it away with his hand and focuses on explaining. "Lie down on me," he says, and Lan Zhan complies. He wiggles until they align and he can place his leaking cock between Lan Zhan's thighs. He gasps as Lan Zhan realizes what he is trying to do and slots himself so the angle doesn't hurt either of them.
"Now," he breathes, "close your legs." As Lan Zhan does, Wei Wuxian realizes how snugly his cock fits against the closed cheeks of Lan Zhan's ass. He groans, low and guttural, and hugs Lan Zhan close as he starts moving. They move together, their breathing turning into panting as Lan Zhan moves and squeezes his thighs to give Wei Wuxian the friction he needs. They're close, so close that Wei Wuxian can count Lan Zhan's lashes again. The heat coming off Lan Zhan's body threatens to melt them together as sweat mixes with oil and some of Lan Zhan's come. Wei Wuxian spreads his legs as far as he can and lifts them both up, making it easier for them to move in unison. Lan Zhan moves his arms and hugs Wei Wuxian's shoulders, one hand tangling with the loose ends of the forehead ribbon Wei Wuxian forgot he was wearing. He moans loudly and moves, forcing Lan Zhan to grip the band tighter. The smooth embrace of Lan Zhan's thighs is all the friction he needs, all the warmth. Lan Zhan is here to remind him he doesn't need to miss him when he's always so close.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan moans. Wei Wuxian realizes he's grown hard again, that his erection is straining and rubbing against Wei Wuxian's oiled up stomach.
"Lan er-gege," Wei Wuxian moans loudly alongside Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan's legs strain to keep moving for both their sakes, and Wei Wuxian drops flat onto the bed again.
"Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan whisper-chants. He slips his hand between the Lan ribbon and Wei Wuxian's neck, dragging his nails against the skin. Everything, all at once, makes Wei Wuxian release between Lan Zhan's thighs, where his come pools as he yells into Lan Zhan's hair, which is still tightly and somewhat neatly held up by the hairpiece. He relaxes into the bed, but Lan Zhan doesn't immediately get off him. He kisses and holds him, close and comfortable, and Wei Wuxian doesn't even notice it when his eyes fall shut.
When Wei Wuxian opens his eyes next, the sky is overcast and gray. Rain dances on the roof of the Jingshi. It must be late, but he's not alone in bed. Lan Zhan is next to him, his eyes closed, but as soon as Wei Wuxian moves, they open.
"Wei Ying."