Work Text:
The firelight burns low, casting vague shadows over the walls. Wei Wuxian’s fever ebbs and flows, as well as his consciousness. He recalls a song, hazy like a dream, Lan Wangji’s deep voice soft and balmy, accompanied by the dripping water.
Lan Wangji, who…has laid Wei Wuxian’s head on his lap.
The edges of once-white robes tickle his cheek. The thigh his head is pillowed on is firm, and the hand on his forehead is soothing. Lan Wangji’s other hand holds his own, resting together on Wei Wuxian’s chest, stuttering every so often with trickles of spiritual energy.
Wei Wuxian feels as if a butterfly has landed on the tip of his finger. He feels warm, like the fever has spread to the tips of his toes. See, Lan Wangji isn’t an ice-cold block after all, hm? He’s soft enough to take pity on Wei Wuxian as he’s dying.
“Lan Zhan,” He croaks, the taste of blood on his lips, “Do your legs…hurt?”
Lan Wangji’s voice floats over as if from a distance away. “No. Rest.”
Wei Wuxian would like to do as he says, really, but he’s practically been speared through the chest—a brand on one side and an arrow wound on the other. It’s a little hard just to breathe properly, with what feels like corpse water crusted all over him too. Moreover, what if he wakes up again and Lan Wangji has kicked him off his seat of honour? That won’t do. He’d like to stay as long as possible, please.
Right. Lan Zhan really is good to him. Unbidden, Wei Wuxian suddenly hears those low words again in his ears—Wei Ying, you are truly annoying—and feels something under the brand wound twist a little. It's already bad that he was insensitive enough, ignorant about Lan Wangji's situation. Watching the other boy cry, his mind had gone so blank that he even completely forgot to apologise.
Now, it really looks like they might die just like this, together. Restlessly, Wei Wuxian wonders if Lan Wangji wishes someone else were stuck with him right now.
He licks his lips. It stings.
Wei Wuxian isn't an ungrateful type of person. In actuality, he's unbearably glad that Lan Zhan is here. Who else could have fought with him? Who else would have...allowed him to rest in their lap like this?
“Sorry for being annoying.”
Lan Wangji must be confused. He speaks haltingly. “...You were only sleeping.”
“Ha ha.” Wei Wuxian sighs out. I’m not actually all that sorry, he reflects with no shame, I just like annoying you the most. But I didn’t mean to make you sad.
After a moment, Lan Wangji seems to realise what he’s talking about.
“It’s fine.” He says. “Without you, the Xuanwu…”
He doesn't finish, but he squeezes their hands. It's undeniably reassuring, although he hasn’t looked down at him, yet.
Wei Wuxian wants to laugh, but everything hurts. They’ve brought down a thousand-year-old beast, but won’t die gloriously in battle, no—they’ll die trapped on the rocky shore of a corpse-strewn cave, feverish and filthy. He's got two lovely landmarks on either side of his torso and Lan Wangji's legs have been reduced to chew toys. His hands haven't been spared in the slightest, either. Well, the most they'll both leave with are intact corpses, but…
Lost in thought, Wei Wuxian breathes out and whispers clumsily, “Ah, I can’t believe I’m going just like this…I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”
Lan Wangji's breath remains steady, the deep rise and fall seeming distant in Wei Wuxian's blurry vision. The water drops pause for a while, then continue semi-rhythmically.
The silence is so long that Wei Wuxian is half-convinced that he’s hallucinated the whole conversation and begins to fade back into unconsciousness. He wishes to wake up just one more time, in case Lan Wangji sings to him once more.
Abruptly, the fingers on his forehead twitch and he hears a single syllable fall from Lan Wangji’s lips.
“…You?”
Brought back from the brink, Wei Wuxian wants to laugh again. He bites his lip instead. The situation is surreal and somehow so ridiculous. Lan Wangji, hoarse and half-dead, manages to sound faintly disbelieving.
...Wei Wuxian likes him so much.
He doesn’t answer properly, instead releasing a heavy, gusty sigh. It’s relaxing, even though his whole body twists and aches. Wei Wuxian wants to regale Lan Zhan a little more, annoy him properly, but his mouth currently won’t run at the usual speeds so he settles with teasing him in his head.
Ah, Lan Zhan, you don’t believe me? Since I, Wei Wuxian, have such a resounding reputation, no one would ever suspect me of such a pure history! This one has been saving himself for marriage, can you imagine? I’m leaving a trail of broken hearts throughout Yunmeng, but of course I can’t compare to the legendary jade Lan-er-gongzi—
“Do you want one?”
Wei Wuxian’s extremely annoying train of thought is interrupted by that same hoarse voice. He thinks he’s hallucinating again.
“Ah?”
“A kiss.” Lan Wangji says, even quieter. He looks down at Wei Wuxian, echoes of sunlight in his eyes. It's like the clouds have parted, with how clear his vision has suddenly become.
That beautiful face is lax and unguarded, as if he hasn’t just turned Wei Wuxian’s brain to liquid with two simple words.
So Wei Wuxian looks up at him, forgetting to blink. The pain dissipates, and the world goes silent—as if he has been suspended in honey.
It’s unfair for someone to be so beautiful from this angle. It’s unfair for Lan Wangji to say something like that so casually, even as a joke, when Wei Wuxian’s just been telling him that he’s secretly a romantic at heart, a blushing virgin. It’s unfair that Wei Wuxian can’t really think of anyone else he’d like to kiss now or ever, that Lan Wangji is so kind to actually listen to this meaningless grievance of his and offer such a treasure.
His stomach flips.
“I want…” The words are more air than sound.
Truly, Wei Wuxian wants to be mortified, but he really does want.
Something, at least.
Lan Wangji looks at him for a little longer. Wei Wuxian wonders if he's ever looked at anyone else like this.
The hand on his forehead slips down into his hair, stroking as if along the silk of qin strings. Wei Wuxian's eyes flutter closed, a slow shiver travelling down his spine. It’s nice. It would be nicer on the shores of a summer lake, a fragrant breeze washing over them. It would be nicer under cold sunlight reflected off jade, the grassy meadow whispering with the padded footfalls of rabbits.
A long moment later, something feather-light presses against his lips. Wei Wuxian’s breath stops.
Only one thought comes to mind—it’s warm, like Lan Zhan’s gaze.
There’s a sting from where their lips fold against each other, cracked and bloodied. It’s a little moist, incredibly careful in a way that makes him hot all over. Wei Wuxian doesn’t dare to open his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels that everything up until now has faded away, all struggle and adversity ephemeral in the face of Lan Wangji’s kiss. The rich tang of iron is even stronger, but more than that, Lan Wangji's hair drapes around them. It's muddy and matted, but the closeness of him radiates a certain mellowness in the air, cooling like sandalwood.
Can't he stay here? Just like this, with this person.
All too soon, Lan Wangji withdraws.
Wei Wuxian’s neck strains as he involuntarily tries to follow. Defeated, he lays there, his tongue darting out mindlessly to sweep over his aching lips. Surely, he imagines the sweet taste of loquats underneath blood.
He breathes again after a long while.
What was that? What can he say to that?
Wei Wuxian keeps his eyes closed. His heart twists and aches, like the butterfly’s legs are glued to his finger with honey and can’t fly away. It’s not relaxing. Suddenly, he thinks that he’s more scared now than when he was in the shell of the Xuanwu.
Lan Zhan kissed him so sweetly.
He likes it a lot, unbearably so.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says impulsively, weak and feverish, because he’s quieter than the dripping water and his voice trembles. The air around them is cloying when he gulps in a breath. He wants to know what Lan Wangji is thinking. He feels slow and inadequate. But since it all hurts already, he might as well. “…I like you.”
The blackness on the inside of his eyelids flashes rainbow with firelight and delirium. While the fingers in his hair smooth over his temple, the hand holding his own gives him a gentle squeeze. Then, they begin to trace over his brows, softer than a brush, staining him with affection.
Wei Wuxian feels like a piece of paper being written on. Each stroke is devastating, spelling out his heart.
I like you. I like you. I like you, Lan Zhan.
“Yes,” Lan Wangji says calmly, as if he is doing nothing more than reciting a sutra. “Me too.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes fly open.
He looks directly at Lan Wangji, who is gazing at him with an indescribable, unbearable expression. A surge of warmth grips him by the ribs and yanks him upwards, and then he’s wrapping his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders and crashing their lips together.
Lan Wangji makes a startled noise, but his hands reach out to steady him instinctively, pulling them flush against each other.
Wei Wuxian's kiss is completely reckless. Their teeth knock together, and he's sure that if their mouths weren't bloody already they would be nonetheless. He wasn't mistaken either—Lan Wangji really does taste sweet somehow. In the back of his head, there's a faint embarrassment at his own desperation, but it's all washed away when Lan Wangji kisses him back with no less fervour. It's wet and heady, increasingly agitated.
His large hands continue to hold Wei Wuxian's trembling form as he pulls away for breath, inexperienced and overwrought.
"L-Lan Zhan," Is all he can whisper, sprawled half across Lan Wangji's body and half against the cave wall, the contrast of heat and cold making him gulp. He glances down at Lan Wangji's reddened lips, cracked yet gleaming in the dancing firelight. Lan Wangji's eyes seem darker than usual, and his whole person is dazed as he stares fixedly at Wei Wuxian. The sight of him so undone sends Wei Wuxian's heart galloping in circles, and he can't help but lean forward for another kiss.
When did I become so greedy? He laments silently, feebly.
Yet Lan Wangji doesn't deny him, so at least the greed goes both ways.
Their shadows linger in the same scene and Wei Wuxian feels so giddy that he’s swaying.
They kiss for a long time. Lan Wangji never pulls away, lets him decide when to press forward and lean back, breathing the same air with the same pulse.
Wei Wuxian has never believed in too much of a good thing. He's thrilled to discover that it certainly doesn't exist, but unfortunately, the limits of his own body—especially when he's already half-dead—do.
He slumps against Lan Wangji's shoulder after a while. Sitting sideways between his legs like this, Wei Wuxian must be heavy, but Lan Wangji remains silent. Instead, he takes Wei Wuxian's hand in his own and begins smoothing his thumb over the back of it again. It's so lovely that Wei Wuxian's lips twitch, and he has to turn his face into the other boy's shoulder just in case his face spasms or something and he looks even more like an idiot.
Gradually, with the comforting motions and the crackling of the fire, Wei Wuxian's eyelids begin to droop. Gradually, he feels hot again.
Lan Wangji squeezes his hand and says his name.
Wei Wuxian's too lazy to reply, humming into his shoulder.
Slowly, Lan Wangji shifts, freeing his arms and reaching out to cradle his cheek with a hand. The other pats carefully at his face, trying to keep him awake.
“Wei Ying,” He calls, “Wei Ying, don’t fall asleep now, your wounds are…”
Lan Zhan, he thinks languidly, with faint amusement, what are you talking about? Don’t think I didn’t see the way your legs are still bleeding, would the smell of blood be so strong for no reason?
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian manages to murmur. The pats around his face are quite soothing, gentle and worried. “Let’s sleep. I’m so tired…and you’re warm…”
Lan Wangji’s golden eyes become hazy as his vision swims, thin lips tight with concern. His voice fades in and out, comforting despite it all, reminding Wei Wuxian of that beautiful song. He's still the same as ever—even in his one moment of lucidity, he forgot to ask such an important question as the name of it. But it wasn't bad at all to have received Lan Wangji's kiss, his firm embrace, the way his hands stroked tenderly over Wei Wuxian's hair, it almost seemed like…
He thinks, as he slips away; if this is how he, Wei Wuxian, dies, he doesn’t mind it so much.