Chapter Text
Binding or Bonding?
Wangji stared at the familiar and much loved face he hadn’t been able to gaze upon for sixteen long years. He wasn’t sure when he had started to lose hope that he would ever find Wei Ying again.
It might have started a year ago. His heart, which had been dying little by little, had been unwilling to keep beating when the day came that marked Wei Ying’s death at Nevernight fifteen years ago. Slowly, his heartbeat had lost its cadence and he had grown even more quiet, eventually secluding himself, and losing himself in meditation. He was unwilling to face a world that would never again hold Wei Ying.
A world that had long become empty. His only reason for staying alive was Sizhui. When he had saved that boy and had taken him to the Cloud Recesses, he had fully intended to be the father the child had so desperately needed. He had been ready to take on that responsibility and be a father now that A-Yuan had lost Wei Ying.
But then his uncle had found him guilty of betraying their rules, and even more importantly, their spiritual path. And Lan Qiren had judged him –harshly.
He had accepted the punishment, though he hadn’t understood the severity of his uncle’s ruling. What Lan Qiren thought of as offenses, Wangji saw as acts of compassion.
And so his uncle’s strictness had prevented him from taking care of A-Yuan. The boy had been all he had left of Wei Ying. Fortunately, Xichen had stepped up and offered to look after the child; an act of kindness on his brother’s part which he would never forget and always cherish.
His uncle’s cruel rigidity was something he would never forget, let alone forgive. Wangji had accepted the punishment, yes, but for a different reason than Lan Qiren had assumed.
Wangji had wanted to repent, but not because he had broken Lan rules. Rules, which should have long been abolished because they no longer served the greater good. But as long as Lan Qiren remained alive, no one, not even his older brother who was sect leader these days, would change them. Change would only come after his uncle’s death.
No, he had accepted the punishment because he had wanted to repent for his mistakes where Wei Ying was concerned. That was the only reason why he had allowed himself to be whipped. Guilt was why he had gone into seclusion for three long years. Each night he had reached out, playing Inquiry, but not once had Wei Ying answered.
Day after day he had spent in seclusion. Thousands of sleepless nights passed by, turning into years before finally becoming nearly two decades of despair. During all that time, he had clung to his guilt.
By the time he had been allowed to leave the back hills and to rejoin his family, he been dead on the inside. Any hope he might have had, had died a little more each night. The only reason he forced himself to carry on was a child whom he had once called A-Yuan. That boy had eventually turned into a fine young man and had made him proud. Wei Ying would have been proud too.
If only he had stayed with Wei Ying and A-Yuan when he had visited the Burial Mounds. Why had he left?
The Cloud Recesses had stopped being home the day he had realized the mistake he had made. Wei Ying was home. Home wasn’t a place; it was a person. But it had taken him too long to understand that.
Studying the man now peacefully asleep in his bed, Wangji finally allowed himself to relax; to let go of the fear which he had felt when Jiang Wanyin, in his usual, impulsive anger, had lashed out at Wei Ying using Zidian, trying to exorcise the Yiling Patriarch from Mo Xuanyu’s body.
It had been the music which had called him closer, that had confirmed the other man’s identity in the end. But truth be told, he had already know that Mo Xuanyu was Wei Ying before ever hearing their song.
When Wei Ying had hidden himself behind a tree, eager for them to forget his presence, Wangji’s golden core had stirred. It had sensed Wei Ying’s presence keenly and urged him to confront the man he loved. Walking away and pretending he didn’t know the masked man’s identity had taken all of his discipline.
Hearing Wei Ying play the song Wangji had composed so long ago, had merely confirmed his suspicions. Wei Ying was back; the man he loved and had failed to confess to, had miraculously returned to him.
The question how Wei Ying had accomplished that remained unanswered though. Wei Ying wasn’t possessing a body; Zidian would have ripped the soul from the body it occupied if he had. But the purple lightning had tested Wei Ying and left him unharmed.
Before Jiang Wanyin could claim the masked man as his prisoner, Wangji had picked up Wei Ying’s crumbled form, mounted Bichen and carried away the unconscious man. He had maneuvered his sword and took Wei Ying to the jingshi.
They might not be able stay for long, but that didn’t matter. He merely needed a place where Wei Ying could rest before they moved on. His uncle knew he had taken Mo Xuanyu to the jingshi, but once Lan Qiren found out the truth, the older man would probably cast him out. Wangji had made his peace with that, as he refused to leave Wei Ying’s side ever again.
When he had placed the unconscious man on his bed, Wangji had allowed his hands to briefly roam. The body was Wei Ying’s; even the distinct scent was Wei Ying’s. This was the man he loved; no one else. He had been tempted to check on the brand mark’s presence, but he had stopped himself from invading Wei Ying’s privacy. It wouldn’t do to undress the other man while he was unconscious.
Sitting down next to the bed, he claimed Wei Ying’s hand and cradled it within his own. Wangji closed his eyes and recalled the way Wei Ying had collapsed earlier. The memory still haunted him.
Luckily Jiang Wanyin was smart enough to realize when he was beaten and the Jiang sect leader hadn’t stopped him from leaving. Good, because he would resort to violence to keep Wei Ying safe.
He had lost Wei Ying too many times already. First, when Wei Ying had vanished after the Wen sect had destroyed Lotus Pier. Jiang Wanyin and he hardly got along, but they had teamed up to find Wei Ying, who the Wen sect claimed to have thrown into the Burial Mounds. When Wei Ying had resurfaced, his soul mate had seemed different; much harsher and way more distant. But the expression in Wei Ying’s eyes had given the other man away. Wei Ying might act cold, but those eyes had told him that Wei Ying still loved him.
The second time had been when he had left the Burial Mounds after running into Wei Ying and meeting A-Yuan. Leaving had been his second grave mistake. If he could turn back time, he would have stayed at the Burial Mounds with Wei Ying and A-Yuan.
Back then he had believed that returning to the Cloud Recesses was the right thing to do, but he had been wrong. His uncle punishing him hadn’t phased him. He had barely registered the cold when he had knelt in the snow. His arms, though they had ached, had never faltered. As he had knelt there, guilt had tormented him; he shouldn’t have left Wei Ying on his own.
Losing Wei Ying a third time at Nevernight had nearly devastated him. When he had attacked, he had merely tried to shock Wei Ying into realizing what was happening. He had hoped that Wei Ying would startle and understand that he needed to stop the madness. He would never hurt his husband. Wangji would rather die himself before putting a single scratch onto that smooth skin.
But then Yanli had died, sacrificing herself so Wei Ying could live. Witnessing that horrid event had pushed Wei Ying over the edge. Seeing how madness had taken a strict hold of Wei Ying and realizing that his confidant no longer wanted to live, Wangji had known that he might lose Wei Ying.
Wei Ying closing his eyes and letting himself fall into the abyss had made Wangji reach out, desperately grabbing hold. When his fingers had wrapped around Wei Ying’s wrist, his hope had returned, only to be crushed again when Jiang Wanyin’s sword had struck the rock beneath them.
Wei Ying had let go then. Had freed himself of Wangji’s hold and had seemed at peace while falling to his death. The way Wei Ying’s eyes had closed, and a sad but serene smile curling his lips, had haunted Wangji each night during these long years.
Wangji had watched Wei Ying fall to his death each night for sixteen years. That he had failed to stop Wei Ying would always haunt him. Tears escaped his eyes, but he refrained from wiping them away. Instead, he let them fall.
Although he didn’t want to let go of Wei Ying’s hand, his guqin called him, promising to sooth his mind and he gave in. His fingers delicately touched the strings and the sound of the qin quickly echoed through the jingshi.
Upon their arrival, his uncle had been there to meet him. Lan Qiren had thrown a tantrum when the older man had learned that he had brought a lunatic to the Cloud Recesses. Wangji hadn’t reacted, hadn’t explained. Instead it had been Sizhui and Jingyi, who had mounted their swords and followed him home, who had come to Mo Xuanyu’s defense. Lan Qiren had demanded an explanation, but Wangji had turned his back on the older man and walked away. His uncle no longer ruled his life. Lan Qiren no longer had a hold on him.
Wei Ying however did. Now that he had found the man he loved, Wangji refused to lose him again. He would always keep an eye on him, ensure his safety, and fight his battles alongside him.
Raising his left hand ever so slightly, Wangji smiled softly. The thin string of blue energy that encircled his wrist was familiar. Back then, Wei Ying had wondered what to call the talisman he had invented; binding, bonding, or something else.
When he had been confined to the cold cave pond, Wangji had clung to his memories. One of them featured Wei Ying using a talisman he had invented himself. It had taken Wangji a week to figure out how to cast that talisman. Since he had seen Wei Ying do it twice, he had eventually succeeded in making it work.
The talisman which he had adapted to his own needs ensured that they wouldn’t be parted ever again. A similar string circled Wei Ying’s wrist and the gentle blue energy that bound them felt pleasing and reassuring. He had also changed the spell in such a way that the energy binding them was invisible to anyone else. Wei Ying wouldn’t see it. Only Wangji could.
Wangji had also decided on a name; it had to be bonding. He didn’t want to bind Wei Ying to him; taking away Wei Ying’s freedom had never been his intention and so he had bonded them instead. The talisman worked both ways; Wei Ying could pull him close as well.
He had also changed the distance the talisman allowed for them to be apart. Instead of four meters, it allowed for them to be ten meters apart; then it would start pulling them close. Both of them had to answer such a call. Neither of them could break it. And this wasn’t temporary. No, when he had cast it, Wangji had made their bond permanent. As long as they were alive, they would remain bonded.
He huffed softly; Wei Ying would never manage to slip away again. From this day on, he would always be at his love’s side.
//
Wei Ying wasn’t sure where he was. Was he even alive? Oh, he definitely was, judging from the headache he woke up to. What had happened to make his temples throb and the back of his head feel tender? He groaned, trying to shift, but then he squeezed his eyes shut, finding his neck was sore too. His entire body felt heavy and he would have loved to return to oblivion, but the sound of a qin weaving its song urged him to open his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was blue cloth, a curtain apparently, gently moving in a light breeze. The color was familiar and he felt that he should recognize it. Next, the song of birds registered with him. At the Burial Mounds, there hadn’t been any birds. Maybe a crow or two, but no song birds. So how come he heard them now?
Sighing, Wei Ying raised an arm and rested it across his eyes, unwilling to face the world just yet. He wouldn’t put it passed Jiang Cheng to have taken him prisoner. If that was the case he was about to face a very unpleasant time. He had seen murder in his brother’s eyes and knew he wouldn’t escape Jiang Cheng’s wrath. So enjoying this peaceful moment in time was all he could do before all hell broke loose.
But then someone tugged at the strings of a qin and a soothing melody surrounded him, blanketed him, making him feel safe. Wei Ying gasped in surprise when he recognized the song. There was only one person who would play that particular melody for him. Slowly turning his head and lowering his arm, Wei Ying swallowed hard upon realizing where he was.
Back at Gusu.
The place where Lan Zhan had wanted to take him during his first life. Did that mean…?
Wei Ying blinked slowly, his eyes trying to get used to the shadows and candlelight that made up the jingshi. Yes, he’d finally realized where he was; where Lan Zhan had taken him.
“You’re awake.”
Hearing that much loved voice again, and from so close, made Wei Ying quiver. Ever since his return to the living, his heart had yearned to be reunited with Lan Zhan, but he had been afraid of rejection. So many years had passed by, surely by now, Lan Zhan had realized the truth about him? “Lan Zhan…” Speaking the name gave him pleasure, but at the same time saying it also revealed his insecurity, as his voice shook.
Turning his head, Wei Ying forced himself to look at the man he had once considered his soul mate, but he refrained from making eye contact, not yet feeling up to that.
“You brought me back to Gusu after all,” Wei Ying whispered, acknowledging the situation he found himself in. How did he feel about being back here? When Lan Zhan had asked him to return to Gusu with him, he had rejected the offer. Not because he had feared Lan Qiren’s reaction to finding out about his demonic cultivation, but because he had been scared to hurt Lan Zhan’s feelings. Wei Ying couldn’t have stayed even if he had wanted to; the Wen survivors had needed him.
“I did,” Wangji acknowledged, allowing himself to savor looking at the man resting in his bed, which was exactly where he wanted Wei Ying to be –if possible for the rest of his life. It was just wishful thinking, of course, but something he allowed himself to indulge in for another moment.
The fact that Wei Ying looked everywhere except at him didn’t worry Wangji. He had realized by now that Wei Ying was fighting a battle of his own. “You have finally returned to me –after sixteen years.” Did Wei Ying know how long he had waited for this very moment?
Wei Ying’s gaze settled on Lan Zhan’s hands, which had stilled on the strings. Was it just his imagination or did they tremble like his own? “Lan Zhan, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where I’ve been all these years.” Would his soul mate believe him? But no, he had lost the right to think of Lan Zhan like that.
“I believe you,” Wangji stated at once, wishing Wei Ying finally found the courage to look at him. But Wei Ying’s evasion didn’t stop him from studying his companion’s expression. Wei Ying looked worried, apprehensive even, as he fidgeted with the blanket he had been covered with. The evening had brought cool air and the last thing Wangji wanted was for Wei Ying to be uncomfortable. “You look tired,” he observed, eager to help and to take care of his love.
Wei Ying hated admitting it, but knew better than to lie. “I am tired,” he admitted. “Which is stupid. I’ve been dead for sixteen years. I’ve gotten all the rest I could have wished for.” And still it hadn’t been enough. Why had Mo Xuanyu resurrected him? Why couldn’t he have stayed dead instead? Wherever his soul had been, he had been at peace.
“Maybe coming back from the dead is more exhausting than you thought?” Wangji privately debated making his way over to the bed, or should he stay where he was? Wei Ying’s gaze remained averted and Wangji was growing restless because of the other man’s refusal to truly acknowledge him.
If it hadn’t been for the talisman now permanently binding them, Wangji might have panicked. What if Wei Ying was already thinking of a way to escape from Gusu? “Will you look at me?” Wangji requested, unable to deny his need any longer.
“I shouldn’t,” Wei Ying whispered, afraid of what he might find in those eyes. But then he drew in a deep breath and told himself to confront his past –and the man he would always love. Not even death had been able to change that. Wei Ying tried to elbow himself into a sitting position, but grew dizzy. At once, hands steadied him, gently guiding him against the bed railing and then those fingers remained poised against his chest, resting close to his heart.
Stunned that Lan Zhan would touch him like that, Wei Ying raised his head and looked at the other man after all. What he saw in those eyes wasn’t hard to label at all. Affection, dedication, and a hint of fear threw him. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmured, wondering why the other man was giving him such a look.
“You should rest,” Wangji said, worried now that Wei Ying was too weak to even sit up by himself. “Don’t leave the bed,” he instructed before saying what he should have said so many years ago. “Stay and don’t leave me.”
What? Wei Ying’s eyes widened and he stared at the other man in shock. Had Lan Zhan really said that? Eager to appease, he immediately soothed, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think I can manage walking just yet.”
What had happened when he had collapsed after Jiang Cheng had hit him? Was that it? Had Zidian sapped his energy reserves? It might made sense; when Madam Yu had whipped him at Lotus Cove, his golden core had helped him recover. But he had lost his core since.
“Good, because I will stop you if you try to leave.” Wangji had long made up his mind. Wei Ying was his, and this time, he was going to fight for him. He wouldn’t allow Wei Ying to put distance between them ever again. Now that he had found his husband again, the thought of ever being without Wei Ying distressed him. It was a good thing he had already cast the spell. A talisman Wei Ying was still unaware of.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying chuckled; against all odds, Lan Zhan still liked him! “Are you sure you want me here? The Yiling Patriarch, hated by the entire cultivation world, now residing at the jingshi? What will your uncle say? Your brother?” Lan Zhan should put their needs first. Wei Ying would manage; he always did. Ah, well, most of the time he did. Nevernight had been…
A nightmare. Wei Ying closed his eyes, reliving his senior sister’s death all over again. Why had she given her life in order to save him? She shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t worth such a sacrifice!
“Wei Ying?” Alarmed, Wangji watched tears flow down Wei Ying’s face, which eventually dripped onto the fabric of his black robes. “What’s amiss?” The first time around, he hadn’t understood Wei Ying’s need for words. He was a man of action and had –falsely– assumed that standing by his side would tell Wei Ying how much he loved him. But he had been wrong and Wangji refused to repeat past mistakes. For Wei Ying, he would use words. “Why are you crying?”
“I am?” Surprised, Wei Ying raised his arm and quickly wiped at his face, trying to rid himself of his tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” He had never realized that his emotions had gotten the better of him. The last time he had cried Wen Qing and Wen Ning had witnessed his breakdown. Wen Qing, he had lost her too.
Seeing how distressed Wei Ying was, Wangji quickly assured him, “There’s no need to apologize. I understand that emotions are sometimes impossible to control.” Wei Ying, looking at him surprise, made him smile. Finally.
Finally those eyes met his. “I didn’t understand in the past,” Wangji admitted, “But these days I do.” Living in seclusion for three years had taught him a lot.
For one, that emotions were fierce –sometimes too fierce to control. During so many lonely nights had he called out for Wei Ying, and sometimes, he had given in to despair, sobbing and screaming out at the heavens in anger. “There’s no shame in crying,” he added when Wei Ying remained quiet.
Mesmerized, Wei Ying watched Lan Zhan reach for him. Fingers, gentle, yet possessive, curled around his hand and his breath caught. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispered and grinned naughtily. “I thought you said you didn’t touch people.” He couldn’t help teasing; Lan Zhan looked sad and he wanted him to smile again.
“You’re not people,” Wangji passionately pointed out. “You’re Wei Ying.” Rubbing the inside of Wei Ying’s wrist, he realized that he never wanted to let go again.
“Lan Zhan.” How many times since he had regained consciousness had he whispered the other man’s name? Why was Lan Zhan the only one he could think about? He wanted to reach out and touch in turn, but didn’t feel worthy. Not after all the mistakes he had made in his past life.
I love you, almost tumbled from his lips, but Wei Ying stopped himself just in time. Lan Zhan cared about him, yes, but romantic love? He didn’t want to ruin their friendship by admitting such a thing.
Lan Zhan felt like he was drowning –his feelings were pulling him under. His chest felt uncomfortably tight, as he desperately needed to tell Wei Ying how much he loved him. How much he needed the other man to be a part of his life again, but he couldn’t do that. What if he wrecked their friendship by admitting his feelings? So Wangji focused on something else instead. “You should eat and then rest some more. Let me prepare you a light meal.”
“You don’t have to wait on me!” Wei Ying instantly objected. “Besides, I’m not hungry.” His stomach promptly growled loudly, proving him a liar and he tried to salvage the situation by saying, “That badly. I’m not that hungry.”
“You’re hungry. You shall eat and then rest.” Wangji wanted to take care of him. Wanted to spoil Wei Ying, tuck him in and watch him sleep, secure in the knowledge that they wouldn’t be separated again.
“Stay and rest. I will be right back.” Wangji was going to be the best provider Wei Ying could wish for. He wanted to give his husband all those things which he had denied Wei Ying sixteen years ago.
Wei Ying felt deserted when Lan Zhan let go of his hand so the other man could go into the kitchen area and prepare his meal. “Lan Zhan, it’s not necessary.”
Please come back instead, Wei Ying thought, but he didn’t voice those words. He settled for watching every move Lan Zhan made, savoring the fact that he got to have this. He couldn’t stay, of course.
The last thing Wei Ying wanted was to endanger the Cloud Recesses by harboring him. The sects might still think he was Mo Xuanyu, but sooner or later the truth would come out and then they would come knocking on Gusu’s door. He refused to let that happen. Once he was back on his feet, Wei Ying planned to leave.
Wangji observed Wei Ying closely when he sat down next to the bed and placed the tray across his love’s lap. How much longer would it take Wei Ying to realize that he had added Emperor’s Smile to the meal? Not that much though, just one cup, because he didn’t think Wei Ying’s system could deal with large amounts of liquor just yet. But Wangji did want to spoil him and make up for his past mistakes.
“Thank you,” Wei Ying whispered before picking up the chopsticks and starting to eat the rice and vegetables. For once he was happy that the Lan sect was vegetarian. Ever since he had been forced to survive on rotting flesh at the Burial Mounds he simply couldn’t deal with the taste and texture of meat. That Lan Zhan hadn’t brought him tea surprised him, but the water would do. Sipping from it, he realized his mistake. “Is this…?”
“Emperor’s Smile,” Wangji confirmed and poured water into a different cup. He was eager for Wei Ying to have a taste of the alcohol, but after that, his charge was going back to drinking water.
Smiling happily, Wei Ying joked, “Did you smuggle liquor into the Cloud Recesses?” Then his expression sobered and he grew worried instead. “You shouldn’t have. If master Lan finds out he will have you beaten.” Many years ago Wei Ying had been the reason why Lan Zhan had been punished and he refused to cause trouble again.
“I don’t care,” Wangji stated firmly. Even if his uncle found out and decided to punish him, it didn’t matter, as he had vowed to never accept unjust punishment again. And making Wei Ying happy deserved a reward, never punishment.
“I hardly recognize you,” Wei Ying whispered, taken aback. Before he knew it, he rested the palm of his hand against Lan Zhan’s cheek, rubbing the facial skin there. Startled, Wei Ying suddenly realized what he was doing and quickly retracted his hand, or, he wanted to, but Lan Zhan claimed his hand instead.
“Don’t stop,” Wangji pleaded as he craved the physical contact. He had never quite forgiven himself for refusing to touch Wei Ying at the beginning of their friendship. He had thrown away so many chances to experience this –to feel.
Unable to deny Lan Zhan a thing, Wei Ying’s thumb traced along the other man’s jaw line. “You’ve changed,” he murmured. And a great deal as well. In his past life, Lan Zhan had always kept him at a distance, but now, that distance seemed gone.
Wangji drew in a deep, hopefully steadying breath. He hadn’t wanted to do this so quickly, but his feelings needed a way out. “I’ve waited for this for sixteen years. I’m not passing up the opportunity to experience your touch.” No more running away from this. No more denying himself. No more putting the interests of the sect –or his uncle– before his own. He wanted this.
That Lan Zhan was hurting was obvious, but Wei Ying had no idea why. The lost expression in Lan Zhan’s eyes made him reach out and slip his fingers into the dark tresses, always making sure that he stayed clear of the headband. He wasn’t going to tempt fate. Whatever moment they were sharing, he didn’t want it to ruin it.
“Drink,” Wangji encouraged his companion, placing the cup still holding a remnant of Emperor’s Smile at Wei Ying’s lips.
This was incredibly intimate and Wei Ying felt himself grow flustered. Was he really blushing? Apparently he was. What was happening here? Again, he sipped from the Emperor’s Smile, deciding against downing it all at once. “Lan Zhan,” the name once more tumbled from his lips. Had he ever seen Lan Zhan smile like that before? It almost seemed as if Lan Zhan loved him. But that couldn’t be.
Wei Ying growing even more flustered encouraged Wangji. The other man wouldn’t react like that if the closeness wasn’t affecting him. “You need to rest.” He was loathe to move though, as Wei Ying’s fingers still lingered in his hair. Hair, which he had untied for his husband. However, he doubted Wei Ying knew what his untied hair meant.
Not telling Wei Ying about what had happened in that cold cave pond was something else he regretted. If only he hadn’t been so much of a coward back then. He had wanted Wei Ying to realize the truth by himself, but that had never happened and so he had thrown away his chance at happiness. “I shall stay and watch over you. You shall rest.”
Wei Ying chuckled softly before lowering his hand and instantly regretting losing physical contact. Lan Zhan’s hair was soft and a sandalwood fragrance clung to it. That Lan Zhan had so eagerly accepted his touch surprised him and Wei Ying wondered what else had changed. Lan Zhan sat awfully close and the expression in those eyes could only be described as soft. “I’m not that tired.”
“It’s past nine. You shall rest.” Wangji set the tray aside and wondered, “Would you like to remove your outer robes? Sleeping like that isn’t comfortable.” Seeing Wei Ying blush wasn’t what he expected. The other man lowering his eyes and fidgeting with the blanket puzzled him. Wei Ying almost seemed shy.
“I’m not sure I should.” Wei Ying grew increasingly aware of the intimacy that kept building between them. His hands itched to touch Lan Zhan’s face, to bury his fingers in that soft hair and to pull him close so he could finally kiss him. But he had lost the right to want that.
He wasn’t the carefree boy who had attended the Lan lectures and who might have been worthy of someone like Lan Zhan. No, the things he had done as the Yiling Patriarch had tainted his very soul.
“You should,” Wangji told him and reached for the black belt. “May I?” He had given up too easily in the past, hadn’t pushed when he should have, and he refused to make the same mistake twice.
Wei Ying sucked on his bottom lip, waveringly made eye contact, and then nodded. Lan Zhan’s hands closed around his waist and after some awkward fumbling, the other man did away with the constricting belt. Wei Ying had to admit that breathing was easier now that it was gone. Finding that Lan Zhan had moved onto the wrist guards, he stared at his companion in wonder. Lan Zhan really wanted him out of his clothes!
Not wasting more time than necessary, Wangji did away with the wrist guards and placed them next to the mask. Sliding the outer robes down Wei Ying’s shoulders happened automatically. Wangji removed those as well. Now that Wei Ying was only clad in a thin, black inner robe, he nodded approvingly. “Better.”
Wei Ying had to agree that Lan Zhan was right. When the other man wanted to get to his feet, to doubtlessly give him more personal freedom, he grabbed Lan Zhan’s wrist, much like he had done at Dafan Mountain. The thought of Lan Zhan moving away and leaving him was unbearable. “I need you close,” escaped in him an unguarded moment. Why had he said that? Wei Ying chided himself and added, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to impose on you.”
“You never could!” Wangji had spoken with dedication, maybe giving away too much, but he didn’t care. He needed Wei Ying to know that he was here for him. “Would you like me to join you? I can do with some sleep myself.” Maybe tonight he would sleep peacefully. For the last sixteen years he had relived watching Wei Ying fall to his death night after night. He hadn’t experienced any restful sleep in nearly two decades.
Wei Ying rubbed his nose, feeling nervous. He wanted to say yes, but wasn’t sure he should take advantage of Lan Zhan like that. In the end, he nodded, unable to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes for now.
“Move onto your side then.” Wangji was determined to make sure Wei Ying felt safe and holding his husband would surely accomplish that.
This time Wei Ying did raise his head and stared at Lan Zhan in wonder. Had the other man really said that? Did Lan Zhan plan on sleeping that close to him? Maybe even holding him? He failed to suppress another blush that quickly spread across his face and neck. As he didn’t trust himself to sound steady, he settled down on his left side instead. That way he could watch Lan Zhan a little longer.
Wangji removed his boots, untied his outer robes, removed them and neatly folded the fabric. Turning back to the bed –their bed!- his heart raced like mad. He had dreamt of holding Wei Ying for so many years and now it was finally happening.
He moved onto the bed, lay down on his side behind Wei Ying, and proceeded to pull his companion into his arms. Wei Ying’s breath caught and his husband momentarily tensed, but then Wei Ying relaxed against him, pressing even closer. Yes, this was what he had always wanted!
Knowing he wasn’t alone and that Lan Zhan was holding him, made his eyes sting. A moment later, tears –happy tears- escaped and slowly slipped down his face. ”Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying had no idea what he wanted to say, but the need to simply say the name overwhelmed him.
“Wei Ying.” Wangji understood, as he felt the same way. For the first time in his life, he felt complete. He reached for the blanket, tucked it around their forms, and deeply inhaled Wei Ying’s scent, still familiar, still pleasing.
Burying his face in the dark hair, Wangji closed his eyes and relished having the one he loved this close. He would tell Wei Ying everything; he would tell him about their marriage, the talisman that now bound them, and most importantly, how much he loved him.
TBC