yiling_laozu | (no subject)

(no subject)

[continued from here]

Lan Wangji tightens his hold as they near the apartment, having now left a window unwarded rather than enter through the main doors. He has found when on his own, he far prefers to avoid such common areas. He once rode the elevator box with a stranger and it was exceedingly uncomfortable. He touches down on the small, metal landing outside the window of the sleeping quarters and raises it with a wave of his hand. "Stay here all night with me," he blurts out. "Stay every night. Too cold for burial grounds. Stay in my bed, with me."

Wei Wuxian steps onto the landing, turning to look at him before he ducks through the window. "Of course I will," he answers, as if it's always been so simple. When he'd arrived he'd been unsure of Lan Wangji - certain of his goodness, of course, but not his feelings towards what Wei Wuxian had become. But, impossibly, Lan Wangji loves him. He has no need to stay away from him. He'll need to spend regular time in the burial grounds if he is not to use the Tiger Seal, but he can do that in the daytime. And at night, he can enjoy the warmth of Lan Wangji's bed, his skin, his mouth.

He laughs a little. "I should have started ages ago."

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Wei Wuxian knows that he will like it, no matter how it feels. His entire being feels free and light in a way he hasn't since boyhood, every drop of blood thrumming through his veins rejoicing beneath Lan Wangji's attentions, and he drops his head back with a heartfelt groan as Lan Wangji's hot tongue traces his length.

If so little pressure and heat feels so good already, how is he meant to keep his senses through this?

Wei Ying seems, so far, to enjoy it. There was a small part of Lan Wangji that was afraid it would be too shocking even for Wei Ying and he is glad to see the pleasure break over Wei Ying's delicate, lovely face.

He feels so hot against his tongue as he traces up where Wei Ying is growing wet and slick. He remembers what the book had said about technique, thinks about what he had learned with various vegetables he had practiced on and closes his mouth around what fits comfortably, fingers firmly around the rest.

Good is the first thing he thinks before he slowly starts to move. He likes this, he likes how entirely debauched and devoted he feels, doing this. All for Wei Ying, always.

"Āiyā, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whines as he sinks down, enveloping him in slick, velvety heat. Blood rushes to his cock so swiftly that he's dizzy with it, growing even harder against Lan Wangji's tongue as he moves. It's so immediately, deliriously good that Wei Wuxian can't summon a single word that isn't his beloved's name. He sinks fingers into his hair, so overwhelmed his nerveless fingers can't hold on even to the silken strands, dragging artlessly against his scalp.

Lan Wangji groans around Wei Ying at the scrape of his fingers in his hair. He wants that, wants more of that, wants Wei Ying to take hold of him. His free hand flies up to press Wei Ying's hand more firmly against his head, eyes fluttering shut as he concentrates on slowly lowering further down. It is more difficult than in practice because of the distraction Wei Ying provides, the sight and taste of him, the feeling of him hot inside his mouth.

The sounds he makes are enough to have Lan Wangji painfully, wantonly hard. It feels sacred to do this, to lie in between Wei Ying's legs and be the only person to have touched him this way. He'd always assumed such acts would be filthy, base in a way he simply was not. In this, as with so many things, he was entirely ignorant. He can feel his own hips moving against the bed in time with the bobbing of his head but does not care to stop himself or detract from any part of the pleasure they are creating.

Wei Wuxian manages to grip his hair with Lan Wangji's help, fingertips perhaps too blunt against his scalp as he holds on as tightly as he'd held him while flying, his every breath seemingly trapped in his chest and escaping only in broken moans. He's never felt anything as entirely, ceaselessly good as the passage of Lan Wangji's hot mouth working over him, and even so his hips seem to know to hitch upward, seeking even more.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian pleads, not certain what he's asking for but aching for it all the same. "Lan Zhan."

He does not know what to do in response to Wei Ying's pleading, can only vaguely imagine what something wet and hot might feel around him and tries sucking harder and faster. He vaguely thinks he might like to try and go slow, sometime, to explore Wei Ying's body with more diligence but he is not certain this is the time to ask that kind of patience.

He is not certain he has that kind of patience, tonight. The hand that is not wrapped around Wei Ying slides around to grab Wei Ying's thigh, trying to encourage his hips to move. He likes every type of proof that Wei Ying enjoys this, likes the idea of Wei Ying taking his pleasure from him. He grunts around Wei Ying again as his hips work against the soft sheets and hopes he does not finish too quickly, just from this.

Wei Wuxian scarcely makes a sound when stabbed, yet he whimpers like the dying as Lan Wangji's cheeks hollow, holding him in an exquisite vice as he moves. Every so often, the tip of his tongue brushes at the sensitive head of his cock, and Wei Wuxian's grip on his hair tightens, on the cusp of dragging him down harder even as Wei Wuxian uses the last of his sense to fight the impulse.

It's simply too good, and he feels his belly tightening, a pressure building where his golden core used to be. "Lan Zhan," he tries again, "I - I'm - "

He does not know how to encourage this, to give permission to let go with his mouth full. He thinks, briefly, about nodding but is worried about moving his teeth too much, remembering the small puncture marks left on the first cucumber he had practiced with. He pulls off, instead, just enough to rasp out a "Do it, want it," before pushing back down with a wet noise.

It is more wet than he'd imagined, noises lewd and loud in the quiet room only drowned out by Wei Ying's own pleas. Lan Wangji knows he will remember each and every noise Wei Ying makes.

Wei Wuxian makes a small, desperate sound as the heat around him disappears, but no sooner are Lan Wangji's words rasped into the space between them does his mouth return, and Wei Wuxian feels that he will choke on the sudden return of so much pleasure.

He grips Lan Wangji's hair, hips lifting off the bed to thrust one, twice, into the waiting heat of his mouth, and on the third the pressure erupts and spills over, ecstasy bursting like a firework at his core as he comes into the soft, damp cavern of Lan Wangji's mouth.

Lan Wangji's eyes snap open at the flood of wetness, a little shocked as this is the part he was unsure how to practice but immediately taken with the sight of Wei Ying. He is writhing and the sounds he is making Lan Wangji realizes he must hear every night.

He pulls off to swallow, noting that there is a strange fruity taste that must be from the lurid alcohol Wei Ying was consuming and simply breathes for a long moment. Wei Ying is devastatingly beautiful like this and he presses reverent kisses to his belly, his own arousal nearly forgotten with the crush of love he feels.

Wei Wuxian is a wreck atop the sheets, panting and boneless. He feels both heavy and light at once, body still singing with orgasm, yet so relaxed he feels he could melt into the earth.

"Lan Zhan," he breathes, for a moment too destroyed to sit up, but he manages to get an elbow beneath himself so he can look at him. He looks like Wei Wuxian feels, disheveled and a bit wild eyed, his mouth wet and lips swollen pink. "Lan Zhan has..." he begins, reaching out to touch his cheek. "You swallowed it?"

He freezes at Wei Ying's surprise, afraid that it was too distasteful, that Wei Ying would be repulsed by it.

"The book said it was an option," he murmurs, having never really given much thought to other ways to discard it. It seemed very much like it would be a rejection of the act, to do so.

"I can clean my teeth if Wei Ying prefers," he offers, arousal flagging in the wake of his uncertainty.

Wei Wuxian grins, flopping back to the sheets with both hands around Lan Wangji's arms to drag him up. "Lan Zhan is so surprising," he says, tugging until they are side by side and he can curl in close. He can't stop staring at his mouth, pretty and wet yet with no traces of himself that Wei Wuxian can see.

"What was it like?" he asks, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Shall I swallow it too?"

Lan Wangji is still until Wei Ying's curls in close and kisses him, the assurance enough for him to relax into Wei Ying's hold.

"Do not expect Wei Ying to do the same," he murmurs, wondering vaguely if Wei Ying can taste himself, if Lan Wangji ought to be at all repulsed by the idea. He cannot quite find it in himself to care. "Had you ever even thought of the act, before? Of doing it?"

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. "Never at home. Nie-gonxi had books," he says, grin widening as he recalls Lan Wangji tearing up one of the finest in a spectacular fit. "I knew what it was, but my life was not one in which I could pursue pleasures like this. And here..."

Wei Wuxian shrugs, kissing him again in apology. "I could not imagine that you would do it. I didn't think of it at all."

Wei Ying had assured him that he was not too shocked by Lan Wangji's actions, but he wonders yet again if he is perhaps more deviant than he had imagined. He had certainly thought about doing it to Wei Ying, even before he had read the book.

"There is no need for Wei Ying to do or not do any particular thing," he murmurs, brushing Wei Ying's soft, unruly hair behind his ears. "Am happy with this." After a lifetime of suppressing any physical yearnings, it is something he is more than willing to do, tonight. Wei Ying has not been spending his time reading lewd books and practicing technique. He may need more time.

Wei Wuxian's brow lifts. "Only with this?" He has no intention of allowing Lan Wangji to sleep before he has felt such ecstacies, but of course Lan Wangji would claim to be alright. Stubborn as he is, he could convince himself it was true, too, but Wei Wuxian won't let him.

Even if he is a bit unsure, yet. Not that he wants to - that he knows quite how. "It felt so good, Lan Zhan," he murmurs, catching one of his hands to bring to his mouth. Curious, Wei Wuxian licks a long strip along his thumb. "Was it difficult to figure out?" he asks, pulling his thumb in its entirety into his mouth to suck on.

He shakes his head, lips parting on a shaky breath as Wei Ying's warm tongue wraps around him. Just that, just on his thumb feels entirely decadent and he can feel himself getting hard again, painfully fast.

"Had to practice to make it more comfortable," he manages, hips hitching a little against Wei Ying without his permission. "How to move, to make it wet, to not bite." He presses his face into Wei Ying's neck, already feeling himself come apart.

Wei Wuxian is a fast learner, whip smart and creative. He designed an entirely new form of cultivation - he can certainly figure out how to pleasure Lan Wangji, but even so he commits each small lesson to memory.

He pulls him in and out of his mouth, swirling his tongue to make it wet, keeping his teeth away from tender flesh. "Like this, Lan Zhan?" he asks around the digit, finding a new flush of heat already creeping over him as he imitates what Lan Wangji has done.

Lan Wangji whimpers, a sound he was not even aware he could make as Wei Ying's mouth moves, broken up only by his voice low in Lan Wangji's ear.

He jerks, body restless to try and take over, to press Wei Ying into the bed and simply take his pleasure. But this he must learn as well, how to receive pleasure, how to accept it at the pace of another.

It is maddening. "Please," he whispers as his hips roll softly against Wei Ying, seeking any relief.

Wei Wuxian moans around the finger in his mouth, too moved by the shattered expression on Lan Wangji's face to be still. "I like it," he says, pulling Lan Wangji's hand away. "I want to try it, Lan Zhan."

He sits up, beginning to climb down Lan Wangji's body in the tangled sheets. His eyes, ever tactical, find the edge of the bed. He thinks he will be happy with the leverage there. "Will you sit?" he asks. "Just here?"

It takes a few moments for Lan Wangji to process the request, too aroused and confused to understand the sudden lack of Wei Ying's warmth. He pushes himself to the edge with shaky arms, ears furiously red when he realizes the position that Wei Ying means to take.

"Give me permission," he blurts out, as he tries to convince his body to relax, to allow itself to have this. The idea of simply receiving such pleasure is overwhelming in a way that giving it to Wei Ying had simply not been, not at all. "I - I mean," he stutters before swallowing and forcing himself to concentrate. "Tell me it is permissible, to enjoy this. Tell me I can."

On his knees, Wei Wuxian pauses in moving himself between Lan Wangji's white legs. "Of course you can," he says, his whole being a dizzying mix of aroused, dismayed, and fond. He stops parting Lan Wangji's thighs and instead runs gentle hands over them where they tremble, looking up at him with clear eyes.

"And I want to do this for you," he says, pulling one of Lan Wangji's hands to his own cheek. "I want to make you feel as I did. Please, let me make you feel so good, Lan Zhan."

Something in that plea does is enough for Lan Wangji to let out a long breath, thighs relaxing under Wei Ying's hands. He runs a thumb along Wei Ying's cheek and across his jaw, unable as always to deny Wei Ying anything he wants. Wei Ying understands him, understands what has made him how he is. Wei Ying knows just how to give him permission for something like this and Lan Wangji loves him so fiercely for it.

He nods and spreads his legs a little further hand pushing into Wei Ying's hair to scrape lightly at his scalp. "Please. I want it. Want Wei Ying. Want to feel this."

Wei Wuxian smiles, pressing a kiss to Lan Wangji's palm before he pushes his hand away. "Thank you, Lan Zhan." Sure now of Lan Wangji's comfort, he shuffles closer on his knees, eyes drawn inexorably to where Lan Wangji is hard and straining. His pale flesh is blood dark, startling against the white of the rest of him, and so warm that Wei Wuxian swears he can feel the heat from here.

He takes him in hand, sighing in pleasure for the heat that sears his palm as he leans in, pressing an experimental kiss right to the flushed head of his cock.