yiling_laozu | (no subject)

(no subject)

Wei Wuxian has grown fond of a good many things that once used to annoy him about Lan Wangji. Once known beneath that implacable veneer, the man really isn't stodgy at all, but he does still restrict himself to set activities at set times. Today, this works perfectly with Wei Wuxian's plans.

It is 5pm.

5pm means it's time for dinner, and Lan Wangji will be exiting the library in search of it. Only he needn't search for long! Wei Wuxian is there when he passes through the door from the library, beaming at him with a steaming cup of tea in hand.

"We're going for a walk!" he explains as he places the cup in one of Lan Wangji's hands and seizes the other. "You might get thirsty."

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"Mm," he agrees, fingers loosening and wrapping lightly around Wei Ying's back as he slides off of Lan Zhan. He turns over on his side, leaning in for a kiss. He pushes his free hand through Wei Ying's hair, gone wavy and wild as it always ought to be.

"Sometimes it shocks me how beautiful Wei Ying is," he murmurs, letting out a shaky breath. "It shocks me I ever kept this to myself. Shocks me the whole world did not know how much I loved you."

Perhaps they had. Wei Wuxian is a bit too addled in this moment to ponder it, but Jin Guangyao had held a garrote to Wei Wuxian's throat and declared he held Lan Zhan's life in his hands. And when he considers the gentle threats Lan Xichen had leveled his way...it is very possible that only Wei Wuxian did not know.

"Lan Zhan has special eyes," he murmurs, brushing at the edges of them now with his thumbs before he kisses him tenderly. If he is beautiful, only shijie and Lan Zhan have ever said so. "He sees what others do not."

"Ridiculous," he huffs, his turmoil of emotions swiftly narrowed to simple indignation as he rolls on top of Wei Ying, framing his face. "Wei Ying has the finest face in all Cultivation. Bothered me, how many sets of eyes would follow you always. Wanted their eyes off you but knew it was hopeless. Features too fine, too lovely," he says, his fervor managing to string together more coherent thoughts than he has managed since they started touching, again.

He strokes his fingers across that fine face, marveling that such a face and heart has chosen him.

Lan Zhan moves so swiftly, speaks so fervently, Wei Wuxian can only look up at him in surprise. He closes his eyes as those fingertips trace his features, for a moment wishing he could see himself as Lan Zhan does. Even if he never manages it, it's enough that Lan Zhan loves him so much, and Wei Wuxian smiles, catching one of Lan Zhan's hands with his own.

"You could be speaking of yourself, Twin Jade of Lan."

"You truly do not understand what you look like," Lan Zhan murmurs, dragging his thumb across Wei Ying's perfect bottom lip. He'd always assumed part of Wei Ying's confidence was because of how striking his looks were. He finds he hates many different people a little bit for making Wei Ying feel so. Madam Yu is certainly near the top of that list.

"On your belly," he commands. "Won't hurt you. Will just show you how you look to me."

Again Wei Wuxian's brows lift, but he complies, rolling beneath Lan Zhan until the sheets are against his chest and stomach. It feels nice, the pressure against his still half hard cock, the weight of Lan Zhan's warm body bearing him down. "I know you won't hurt me," he says, half-contented even if he's still confused. "What can Lan Zhan show me when I am facing the pillow?"

"Can prove," he clarifies, immediately pushing Wei Ying's hair out of the way to kiss along the pale, soft skin on the nape of his neck. His hands rest on Wei Ying's shoulders before sliding down, feeling every dip and rise of his lean muscles.

"This skin is almost never seen," he starts, lips moving his hairline. "Always far more pale than the rest. When Wei Ying puts his hair all the way up, feels as if everyone is seeing you naked. I cannot concentrate, cannot think when your hair is up."

Wei Wuxian shivers, as unused to lips touching this part of himself as sunlight. "I thought I imagined it," he admits, "The way you used to look at me when I pulled it up to work the rice paddy." He's not been well enough to do that in ages, and before the thorn, the snow had been too thick.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the slow journey of Lan Zhan's mouth. "Shall I keep the sight only for you?"

"Wei Ying shines too bright to be covered just because Lan Zhan is weak for him," he says, shifting his body down a few inches to graze his teeth along the sharp points of Wei Ying's shoulder blades.

"These are just for me. Wei Ying is strong but they look delicate and sharp. Like watching them move under your skin."

He moves his hands down, thumbs massaging at the spots he knows Wei Ying keeps tension.

Wei Wuxian breathes out. Lan Zhan doesn't seem so, not with his straight, upright back, his quick hands and even quicker blade, but he does fold to Wei Wuxian. It's as much a gift as it is a thrill, and Wei Wuxian resolves yet again to be mindful of his power, only to lose all coherent thought as Lan Zhan's broad thumbs dig into his lower back.

"Oh," he groans, melting into the sheets even as he fists them in his hands. It hurts so much, but in a way that he craves. "Lan Zhan is so clever."

"Lan Zhan simply pays attention to Wei Ying's body," he says, curling his fingers around Wei Ying's waist as he presses his thumb into the tight muscle. He presses kisses down Wei Ying's spine lower and lower until he is right above the swell of a soft cheek.

"Waist is so narrow. You have a freckle on one side, just to the back. One just above it and to the right. I think of them when you are not with me."

"Do I?" Wei Wuxian asks, addled by those kneading fingertips, the sharp pleasure-pain they invoke a confusing counterpoint to soft kisses. "Show me," he says, for he's never quite beheld his own back. "Touch them, Lan Zhan."

He immediately leans over to suck a sharp bruise into Wei Ying's skin in the precise two spots of his freckles. Wei Ying is very prone to the marks but those two are among his favorites, lying on such smooth, taught skin.

"And this is perfect," he says, pressing open mouth kisses along one round cheek. Wei Ying is so thin, he shouldn't have enough flesh to form something this soft and exquisite and Lan Zhan thinks he will never stop marveling that it is all his to touch. He moves his mouth down to the crease where Wei Ying's leg meets and slowly slides a finger back inside where Wei Ying is still so warm and wet.

Once again the touch isn't expected, yet neither is it a surprise, the sudden intimate touch a natural extension to the path Lan Zhan is blazing down his body. Wei Wuxian's fingers tighten in the sheets once more, his mouth open to pant as his breaths come suddenly short.

"I can't think when you touch me like this," he manages, hips shifting backwards for more. He wars with himself for a moment, finally cracking his mouth to ask, "Please touch me with two again."

Lan Zhan lets out a hot, sharp breath at the request. The act of feeling Wei Ying like this from the inside is so intimate and wonderful but the idea that Wei Ying likes it is so good it is almost unbearable.

He presses another finger back on much more gently than the first time before he leans in, contemplating for a moment one of the other things the book had revealed. It ought to be repulsive and is probably so forbidden no one in Gusul Lan ever thought to carve it onto the Wall. But Lan Zhan wants every single part of Wei Ying. He slides his tongue over to lick around his fingers, buried as far as they will go.

He'd felt it before, but rolled onto his belly and neck bared, those two fingers draw a shuddering gasp from Wei Wuxian. They are huge within him, taking up too much space yet grounding all the same, and he whines in confusion when wet warmth suddenly accompanies them.

"Lan Zhan?" he breathes, pushing his knuckles towards his mouth to muffle the sounds that keep bubbling from his throat. Something soft and wet glides over him yet again, and Wei Wuxian whimpers. The sensation is so familiar, and yet it can't be, it simply can't be that he feels Lan Zhan's tongue there.

He lets out a soft, muffled moan at the sound of his name spoken in such tones. His tongue pushes is carefully alongside his fingers as they reach deep, trying to find the same place they found earlier in the night.

This is...he cannot imagine anything more intimate. He cannot imagine a way to touch Wei Ying that is more private and secret and wholly Lan Zhan's. He cannot imagine being able to relax enough to happen to him but he would like to bury himself in Wei Ying as long as he will allow it.

Lan Zhan's tongue narrows and slides inside him, and Wei Wuxian nearly chokes, torn between begging him to continue and begging him to stop before Wei Wuxian's shameful body ruins him utterly, but then his fingers brush across the place that makes him see stars, and Wei Wuxian sobs against his fist instead. "Lan Zhan," he cries, toes curling, shaking each time those finger move within him. If he found it difficult to think before, now he's near mindless, a creature of pure trembling need as Lan Zhan drags pleasure from him with fingers and tongue.

Lan Zhan calls upon all his considerable coordination when he slides his free hand underneath Wei Ying's hips and closes his fingers around him. He cannot move his arm at all, but his hand is slick and warm and he hopes it will be enough.

His other fingers are relentless, thrusting in over and over as he licks and makes noises against Wei Ying's skin more depraved than anything he's even imagined. It all blends with Wei Ying's guttural cries until it fills their home, kept private and just for them by their mostly finished walls.

He wants to learn more of this. He wants to learn every single way to undo Wei Ying, every way to claim him.

Wei Wuxian comes entirely undone as Lan Zhan's fingers curl around him. Orgasm is still in wait, barely restrained and threatening to break down the door at any moment, but all rational thought in Wei Wuxian is already gone. He pushes forward, sobbing anew for the friction against his aching cock, newly speared on Lan Zhan's tongue and fingers before he even shifts back again. Something very much like a growl vibrates against his clenching hole, and Wei Wuxian goes rigid, spending hard into the sheets and his own belly as it rips through him, stealing sense and nearly his consciousness with it as nigh unbearable pleasure racks him. Hips hitching again and again, Wei Wuxian can only whimper his way through it, dizzy and breathless by the time his body relaxes down into the mess he's made.

Lan Zhan keeps moving, thrusting more and more gently until Wei Ying's body goes limp against their bed. He pulls his fingers out carefully before slowly crawling up the length of Wei Ying's body and lying to his side.

"Love Wei Ying," he murmurs against his temple, tugging him close and out of the mess. He pushes Wei Ying's swear damp, messy hair away from his face before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "Is Wei Ying still shocked with Lan Wangji?"

Wei Wuxian goes to him still trembling, his arms drawn up between their chests until he manages to lift a hand to Lan Zhan's shoulder. "Still shocked," he agrees, hoping Lan Zhan won't take offense, but he never thought - he never imagined that Lan Zhan would do something so gloriously filthy, an act beyond even what Wei Wuxian might have come up with if left in ignorance. He stares at him, a loose smile in the corners of his mouth. "You love me," he says, "Enough to be the most shocking man on Earth."

"Mm," he agrees before managing to get the rucked up blanket half underneath him free, spreading it over them both. Lan Zhan is perfectly warm but night is falling and their house will grow cold, something entirely unacceptable for Wei Ying to feel.

"Will continue to find ways to shock Wei Ying. Good for me, too. Good for Lan Wangji to try new things," he murmurs, mind going over the night's events, cataloging them half against his will as such reflection had always been required.

"Think some things I am not doing correctly. Some ways I am, during."

The doubt in Lan Zhan's voice is enough to chase some of the fog from Wei Wuxian's head. "Lan Zhan is perfect to me," he says, lifting the hand from Lan Zhan's shoulder to push into his hair instead. Even so, he's noticed moments cut suddenly short, felt Lan Zhan retreating abruptly in the face of pleasure even just this evening.

"But to yourself," he says, tasting the words before speaking them, "I think you are at times afraid to be kind."

He isn't sure how to say this in a way that won't sound wrong. But he knows it must be said if only to help him try and make sense of it. Wei Ying has always understood how to make Lan Zhan's sparse words into what they ought to be.

"Sometimes it is difficult to let you touch me," he finally says, fingers tightening their hold on Wei Ying in case he try to pull away. "Not, not because of Wei Ying. Not because it is not good. Hard to let myself simply take pleasure. Giving is easier."