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Wei Wuxian is sitting in a library, and — as tends to happen whenever he’s in a library — his mind has decided to wander, cheerfully and aimlessly.
First, he thinks about Jiang Cheng, and how red he’s probably turning right now. Sect heir or not, his brother can’t talk to Lan Xichen for shit, and the two of them had been sent to Gusu to talk to Lan Xichen about official sect matters, so Jiang Cheng is pretty much fucked.
Then, he thinks about his shijie. She would've been far more sympathetic to Jiang Cheng’s plight, if she wasn’t locked up in Lanling with that peacock she inexplicably married last year, after he’d spent the two before worming his way into her good graces after the disaster that was lessons at the Lan Sect.
This, of course, leads him to thinking about Lan Zhan — who is sitting at the very same writing-desk as he had three years ago, wearing the very same blank expression. The only real difference is that this time, he isn’t here to supervise Wei Wuxian’s punishment, so he doesn't feel a cold pair of eyes resting heavily upon him whenever his mind wanders.
Wei Wuxian had in fact been doing his best to avoid the Library Pavilion at all costs — get too close, and he might start writing out the ten thousand sect rules based on muscle memory alone! — until Jiang Cheng, having lost patience with the way he grinned knowingly whenever Lan Xichen spoke, kicked him out of the Hanshi under the thinly veiled excuse of telling him to research anything related to the recent upsurge in yaoguai sightings.
Wei Wuxian had complied, with reluctance, until he’d dragged open the Library Pavilion's door and caught sight of Lan Zhan seated quietly before the bookshelf. He hadn’t come across Lan Zhan since their formal welcome, though he’d looked for him. And there he was, hiding in the library! How characteristic! — so with an excited call of his name, Wei Wuxian had bounced inside. This had been met, of course, by a quelling rebuke of ‘No shouting’, which Wei Wuxian had been happy to ignore.
He’d then spent an hour or so cheerfully talking Lan Zhan’s ear off, which Lan Zhan had probably blocked out completely, until the midday bell had rung and he’d realised that he would need to give Jiang Cheng something or be threatened with broken legs. Accordingly, he’d pulled down a few relevant-looking scrolls and begun half-heartedly skimming through them, until his attention had inevitably drifted — and here he is, staring at Lan Zhan.
The Second Jade of Lan has only grown more beautiful, if anything. Face a little less soft, air a little more centred. Wei Wuxian hadn’t thought it possible, but, well. Perhaps Lan Zhan should move to the Jiang Sect, if he’s already following its motto so perfectly!
Wei Wuxian thinks of how Lan Zhan would react to him saying this aloud, and stifles a laugh. He’d likely be offended, irritated, perhaps enough for his mask to slip and actually reveal something.
That’s always been a sight that Wei Wuxian has enjoyed, however he can get it. A glare, a surprised blink, a smile, they’re all the same to him — well, maybe not all the same, but it’s so much easier to make Lan Zhan angry than to get him to smile.
Ah, it’s so, so easy to make Lan Zhan angry. Wei Wuxian thinks back on it, briefly, before thinking that he might like to see it again now…to see a flush staining those flawless cheeks, a crease in that smooth brow, hair freed to fall in disarrayed gossamer curtains about his face, its usual frustrating blankness overpowered by need.
Like lightning arcing down from a clear blue sky, Wei Wuxian feels a sharp hot flash of arousal.
He jerks up to a sit.
Ah, so that’s what it is, he thinks, suddenly. So I want to fuck him!
It comes as a slight surprise, seeing as Wei Wuxian had before only before imagined himself with women, but now he supposes that was an oversight on his part. This newly discovered part of him is very insistent, and the multitude of images which it plies him with are both vivid and extremely compelling. He’s always had a very skilful imagination, though he’s sure that the real thing would be even better.
Well, in terms of finding out — No time like the present! he thinks, with determined cheer.
Even if Lan Zhan doesn’t want him in the same way, that’s okay, that’s fine, he’ll still go all red and flustered and Wei Wuxian can then spend all the time he wants convincing himself that he doesn’t care about the rejection at all. A flawless plan!
Wei Wuxian smiles, slowly.
Lan Zhan still kneels in silence. All unmoving and focused and completely oblivious to the shameless — ha! — thoughts running amok in Wei Wuxian’s head.
Lounging back onto his elbow, Wei Wuxian settles into the familiar motions of his favourite past-time: provoking Lan Wangji.
‘Hey, Lan Zhan,’ he calls.
Not so much as a twitch. Wei Wuxian grins. He can work with that.
‘Lan Zhan, you still owe me for that book you tore apart three years ago, do you remember?’
A minuscule tightening of the perfect lips.
Promising!
‘And it was such a rare one, too,’ Wei Wuxian sighs, laying the mournfulness on thick. His shijie would be stroking his head by now. Jiang Cheng would’ve kicked him. Lan Zhan’s breathing has become precisely even, which means that it’s working faster than Wei Wuxian expected. ‘I still can’t afford a replacement! So heartless of you, Young Master Lan. We can’t all be rich, you know.’
Wei Wuxian pushes himself up to a sit, tapping his knuckles against his chin and watching Lan Zhan stare fixedly down at his book. His eyes aren’t moving. Wei Wuxian hides his smile.
‘I know! You should pay me back, Lan Zhan!’
At that, Lan Zhan looks over. He doesn’t turn his head, doesn’t even look at Wei Wuxian, just moves his eyes enough so that Wei Wuxian must be in the corner of his vision. It still manages to be very speaking.
Shut up, he is saying, and also probably one of his favourite derogatory adjectives. Ridiculous, maybe. Shameless?
Oh, Lan-er-gege, thinks Wei Wuxian gleefully, I haven’t even gotten started!
‘Don’t worry, don’t worry, I won’t do something so thickfaced as ask for money. You’d just have to do something for me.’ Wei Wuxian deliberately misinterprets Lan Zhan’s expression, adding: ‘Aiyah, Lan Zhan, don’t look so worried. It’s so easy you’d barely notice it, I swear! And it wouldn’t take long at all!’
He waits for Lan Zhan’s head to turn ever so slightly more towards him, then continues, feeling his solemn mask beginning to slip from his face. Ah, he can hardly wait. This is perfect. He is so smart.
‘It’s really a very small thing, Lan Zhan. You know that I’m good at drawing. I could remake the book myself, but I’m not so skilled that I could draw without a reference.’ He sees by the slow reddening of Lan Zhan’s ears that he is beginning to guess where this is going, and quickly lands the finishing blow himself, smiling and coy: ‘Will you pose for me, Lan Zhan?’
‘Wei Ying!’
Lan Zhan has shot to his feet, but hasn’t grabbed for his sword yet, so Wei Wuxian feels safe enough to pout back at him. ‘What? Is that a no?’
Ah. There’s the face he was waiting for…outraged, righteously angry, but also a little confused and lost and embarrassed if you know what to look for.
Wei Wuxian knows what to look for. Wei Wuxian is having the time of his life.
‘And here I was thinking it was such a good idea.’ He sighs again, regretfully, and drags his eyes in a very obvious trail down Lan Zhan’s body.
Lan Zhan visibly flinches.
Wei Wuxian grins.
Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch in the direction of his sword.
‘Don’t be hasty!’ Wei Wuxian exclaims, and levers himself quickly to a stand. ‘Why are you refusing so soon? At least give it some thought.’
‘No.’
Lan Zhan is staring at him as if he’s a particularly ugly yaoguai. Wei Wuxian preens.
‘Aiyah, so inflexible. And you’re the one who calls me boring…’
Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch again.
Oops! That may’ve been too much. Wei Wuxian reins himself in slightly — he must be careful not to scare off his prey. After all, an embarrassed Lan Zhan is as skittish as the rabbits he loves so much, though he grabs for Bichen rather than squeaking and running off.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ Wei Wuxian says. ‘I didn’t mean that, Lan Zhan, you know how interesting I find you.’ He runs his fingers languidly through the tail of his own hair, bringing it over his shoulder as he saunters closer. Lan Zhan’s eyes dart down to follow the motion for a bare moment before snapping back up to resume their suspicious glaring.
Wei Wuxian gives his sweetest smile back, and decides to resume pushing his luck.
‘You know, you should take it as a compliment. I only want to use you as my model because you’re so beautiful! There’s nobody I want to draw more.’
Lan Zhan’s cold look is beginning to crack around the edges. And by that, Wei Wuxian means that his ears are glowing bright as brands, and probably just as hotly. He wants to touch them, feel their warmth beneath his fingers, make Lan Zhan shudder, but it’s still too early for that.
Wei Wuxian hates having to be so patient. But, well. It’ll pay off!
Probably.
Hopefully?
Wei Wuxian reaches out, very slowly, to trap a fold of Lan Zhan’s sleeve between two fingers. Lan Zhan stiffens, but stays statue-still. His throat jumps when Wei Wuxian gives it two cheeky tugs.
Does he know what that means? Surely he knows what that means.
Then again, he is a Lan. Poor repressed bastard — Wei Wuxian feels very sorry for him, and would of course be more than happy to catch him up on all the information he’s missed out on. It might even be the first lesson Wei Wuxian would enjoy!
‘Hey, wouldn’t you like me to draw you, Lan Zhan?’ he asks, tilting his head. ‘Do you remember the first time I drew you? It was a nice one, though it’s probably lying in shreds somewhere now. I could make you as many replacements as you want.’
His fingers are now lying very casually upon Lan Zhan’s forearm. Lan Zhan does not shake them off. His mouth has parted ever so slightly, in the way it does when he’s trying to say something. This just has the effect of making them look even more soft and full and biteable than they already did before and how has Wei Wuxian only just realised that he wants to fuck Lan Zhan?
‘It’s not,’ says Lan Zhan finally, as if that’s a full sentence.
Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly sure where to begin. He settles on:
‘Not?’
‘In shreds.’
It takes him a moment, but he gets it — and when he does his smile brightens, becoming completely genuine, forgetting his aim for the moment because really — ‘Lan Zhan, you are too good. You kept it? Really?’
‘Yes,’ is the reply, painfully simple and honest.
Ahhh.
Fuck.
So Wei Wuxian…might not only want to fuck Lan Zhan.
Well.
He’ll think about that. At some point. Later.
‘You liked it?’ he asks, sidling closer. Lan Zhan makes a tiny cut-off sound like he tried to give one of his quiet hums in assent but it got stuck somewhere in his throat, and stiffly turns his face away.
This just brings his temptingly flushed ears within biting distance. Wei Wuxian bites his own lower lip instead, to contain himself.
Restraint! shouts a sudden, horrifying mental image of Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian fights back a grimace and shoves it away.
‘I’ll make sure you’ll like these ones too,’ he promises, slipping back into seduction mode. Lan Zhan’s ear is right there, after all, so he leans in close, feels Lan Zhan’s slight shiver through the tiny charged space between their bodies as his breath brushes over the sensitive heated skin. ‘And it’ll just be the two of us, so you won’t have to be nervous.’
He takes a moment to study Lan Zhan. His eyes, cast down now, shadowed by fine lashes. His lips, firmly pressed together; to hide their tremble, maybe? Ah, that would be nice. His neck, where a slight flush is visible beneath the dark fall of his hair — Wei Wuxian hadn’t known that his neck could turn red too — a new and very welcome discovery! His hands, clenched tight enough for their knuckles to whiten.
All very encouraging. Encouraging enough for Wei Wuxian to press in so that his lips almost brush against Lan Zhan’s ear and whisper: ‘I could get naked too, you know, so you feel less embarrassed.’
‘Wei Ying—’
What a beautiful voice! Soft and strained, and a little desperate — for what? Wei Wuxian wants to find out. Oh, how he wants. Wants so bad his entire body is prickling hot with it.
‘Or just for the sake of it,’ Wei Wuxian adds, smiling, and the knowledge that Lan Zhan can feel the curve of it makes a shiver go through him.
He thinks that Lan Zhan might shiver too.
‘Wei Ying…’
There’s an edge of warning there, weak and faint, but present. Now, Wei Wuxian can’t have him thinking that.
‘Don’t worry, Lan Zhan, I’m not teasing you—’ he pauses, amends, ‘—not just teasing you — I want to see you with your clothes off, not just to draw, I want to touch…’ He hasn’t been shoved off yet, or run through by Bichen, so he nudges his nose gently against Lan Zhan’s ear and slides his fingers down Lan Zhan’s arm to brush against the bare skin of his wrist. His pulse is so fast that Wei Wuxian can feel it, at that delicate point, hard and rapid as the electric surge of blood through Wei Wuxian’s own veins.
‘Hmm?’ he asks, nuzzling slightly into the sweet little space behind Lan Zhan’s ear.
Lan Zhan gives a tiny hitching breath that might almost be a gasp.
Wei Wuxian has never been so turned on, or so nervous, in his entire life.
Because yes, he’s nervous, he is so fucking nervous. He wonders if Lan Zhan can feel how his breaths are shaking.
Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, his mind is chanting, babbling. Lan Zhan. Don’t push me away, fuck, don’t push me away — fuck! — please, Lan Zhan…
Shit. He hadn’t realised how much he wants this! He wouldn’t have — if he’d known, he would have — repressed it, maybe, a little, hidden it for a decade or two, not — fuck!
He can almost feel it, Lan Zhan’s hands on his shoulders pressing him firmly back. The coldness of absence where a warm body was. The emptiness of his hands.
Lan Zhan moves, and he very nearly flinches.
Push! Absence! Empty! shouts his mind, before—
Lan Zhan is tilting his head ever so slightly, baring more of his throat to Wei Wuxian.
‘Wei Ying,’ he murmurs, and he is saying, I want that too.
Wei Wuxian can’t help it. He sobs a little, laughs a little, presses his face into the warm soft curve of Lan Zhan’s neck for a moment.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he replies.
Thank you. I want you so much. I like you so much. I think I might — something-else you. So much.
He kisses Lan Zhan’s throat, gently, feels it jump beneath his lips. Wraps both arms around Lan Zhan’s slim perfect waist, holds him close, feels a hesitant returning touch alight upon his shoulders. It’s so warm. Encouraging. He kisses Lan Zhan again.
Fuck, he smells good.
Wei Wuxian tilts his face up, making his way to the hinge of Lan Zhan’s jaw, kissing it more firmly. Lan Zhan’s hold on him tightens, draws him closer. He gives the crimson ear before his eyes an experimental nip.
Was that a gasp? Yes, that was definitely a gasp.
Can you die from being aroused? Wei Wuxian thinks he might.
Lan Wangji turns his face into Wei Wuxian’s — the slide of warm smooth skin, the butterfly-light brush of his lashes, brush of his nose, drag of his top lip—
Wei Wuxian has been very patient.
Wei Wuxian is not good at being patient.
Wei Wuxian grabs Lan Zhan’s face and kisses him, deeply, probably not very skilfully, but who fucking cares this is Lan Zhan and he’s kissing him back, just as clumsy and quick and desperate as he is. Wei Wuxian strangely wants to laugh, because — Lan Wangji, clumsy! — or maybe just because he’s just so, so fucking happy.
And Wei Wuxian wants Lan Zhan to know how fucking happy he is, so he does laugh, breathless and joyful, and Lan Zhan gives a small cut-off sound and a murmur of his name, in his own Lan Zhan-version of a breathless joyful laugh.
It is very important, then, that Wei Wuxian kisses him harder, so he does — and remembering that there was probably a wall somewhere behind them, he moves one hand back to Lan Zhan’s waist and steers them backwards as carefully as he can manage. Feels Lan Zhan’s back hit the wall — oh good, so there was one — and uses this new purchase to kiss deeper, press closer.
Lan Zhan’s hands have moved in, closer to his neck. One of his warm fingers lies on Wei Wuxian’s skin, and suddenly, Wei Wuxian really really wants all of his fingers to lie on Wei Wuxian’s skin.
‘Lan Zhan, can we take our clothes off now?’ he gasps, when he gets the chance, though he doesn’t — can’t — go far, and is kissing Lan Zhan again even as he gives a short hum of assent, his fingers tightening slightly on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.
And, wow — Wei Wuxian just remembered where they are, and did Lan Zhan really agree to get naked in the Library Pavilion? Yes, he did. And that is so fucking hot, and Wei Wuxian really wants to fuck him in the Library Pavilion, right now, but also he thinks that it might embarrass Lan Zhan later, and he doesn’t want Lan Zhan to regret any single little part of what they’re about to do.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he says, pulling back, and almost fucking whimpers when Lan Zhan chases after him — just slightly, but enough to notice, enough to make Wei Wuxian’s heart shudder in his chest — ‘Lan Zhan, we should — should really go somewhere else, to your rooms, or—’
Lan Zhan opens his eyes. Wei Wuxian chokes on another whimper.
They’re so dark, intense and desiring and focused entirely, dizzyingly, on him — but so full of light, a soft gentle shine that quietly rejoices, quietly wants, and more than just sex.
Of course, Wei Wuxian should’ve known — Lan Wangji wouldn’t get naked for just anyone, flimsy porn-book-related excuses or no — he only does things that he means, truly, deeply — but Wei Wuxian hadn’t really put the picture together and realised oh, Lan Zhan likes me too.
Lan Zhan likes me too! shouts his mind.
Lan Zhan!
Likes!
Me!
Too!
‘My rooms,’ says Lan Zhan, and Wei Wuxian beams at him.
Something in his expression shifts. Wei Wuxian barely has time to notice this before he’s being kissed again, more gently, briefly, but not without desire.
‘My rooms,’ Lan Zhan says again.
‘Your rooms!’ agrees Wei Wuxian, cheerfully, and takes him by the hands to pull him off the wall. Lan Zhan’s hands are so warm, and fit so well with his! Wei Wuxian never wants to let him go. He doesn’t, but is prepared for Lan Zhan to do so as soon as they get outside — regrettable, but he understands it, Lan Zhan has a reputation after all — but he never does.
So they walk through the Cloud Recesses hand in hand, and ah, the expressions on the Lan disciples! To see their Second Jade, shamelessly holding hands with Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng in broad daylight, his face as blank as ever! — Wei Wuxian couldn’t possibly hold back his laughter, so doesn’t try, and laughs all the way to Lan Zhan’s rooms.
He is so happy.
Lan Zhan likes me too!
Inside, he looks to Lan Zhan, and finds him looking back and smiling his tiny little moonlit smile that makes Wei Wuxian want to sigh longingly and stare at it and keep it there forever and never look away.
Since he can, now, he reaches out and gently frames Lan Zhan’s face, thumbs tracing the gentle curve of his lips, memorising it by touch. Lan Zhan’s eyes fall closed and he turns his face into Wei Wuxian’s palm.
Wei Wuxian thinks that right now, he could tear apart a boulder with his bare hands.
He is so happy that he’s frustrated. He is also maybe just…frustrated, in a different sense.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he says, because there can be no uncertainty, no possibility of misunderstanding. ‘What do you want to do?’
Lan Zhan’s smile disappears, but Wei Wuxian is caught by his eyes before he can mourn its loss. They are so serious. So earnest. Telling him a hundred things his mouth cannot.
‘I don’t want just this,’ Wei Wuxian tells him anyway, just to be extra completely sure. ‘I want more, Lan Zhan, I want after, I want—’
‘Wei Ying.’
Wei Wuxian shuts his mouth.
‘Yes,’ says Lan Zhan, careful and deliberate. ‘Me too.’
Wei Wuxian breathes out, and grins, a little cheeky. ‘And you want this?’
Lan Zhan’s ears redden, but he dips his head in his own small nod. ‘And this.’
Wei Wuxian brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath Lan Zhan’s eyes, until they’ve shifted back up to rest on him — and there they would stay, forever, if Wei Wuxian had his way — and he does his best to make that a reality, for now at least, holding that dark quiet gaze with his own, slipping his hands down to retake Lan Zhan’s and drawing them up to his own lips, pressing slow kisses to each elegant knuckle until Lan Zhan’s gaze is like a physical thing, intense and unwavering and seeing him, only him. He can barely breathe beneath it but he smiles, steps backwards, towards where the bed is, and Lan Zhan follows like Wei Wuxian has hypnotised him with one of his talismans.
He hasn’t. Just his mouth and eyes and touch.
Wei Wuxian’s cultivation feels minor, before this.
When he feels the bed pressing against the backs of his legs, he gives Lan Zhan’s fingers one final coy kiss before releasing them, to drop down onto the sheets, lounging back upon his palms.
They have not looked away from each other. Lan Zhan might not be breathing.
‘Lan Zhan,’ Wei Wuxian says, tilting his head to the side to smile up at him. ‘Come here.’
He pats his thigh, invitingly, and watches with delight as Lan Zhan’s throat works, his eyes flickering down to Wei Wuxian’s hand then quickly away. His embarrassment is so strong that it’s beginning to show, in the slight pull of his lips and the dip of his chin and the uncommon hesitance with which he moves — but he still moves, shifting closer and folding himself down onto Wei Wuxian. He’s not quite daring enough to straddle Wei Wuxian’s lap, hovering more around his knees, and he hasn’t rested down any of his weight. But ah, he’s gone far enough — further than Wei Wuxian expected, to be honest — and Wei Wuxian is more than happy to do the rest.
Now, Lan Zhan keeps his eyes averted. He doesn’t resist, though, as Wei Wuxian settles his hands on his waist, draws him onto his lap, pulls at his thighs until Lan Zhan sits fully upon him.
‘Comfortable?’ Wei Wuxian asks, unable to stop himself from teasing.
Lan Zhan gives a mutter that might be ‘Shameless’. Wei Wuxian laughs at him.
‘You’re right, you’re right, I am shameless! I admit it!’
He takes Lan Zhan’s fisted hands in his own, smile softening at the way they relax immediately beneath his touch, and guides them up to rest again on his neck.
‘Touch me, Lan Zhan?’
Wei Wuxian had been expecting him to move downwards — not immediately, of course, but eventually — but he moves up, long fingers cupping Wei Wuxian’s face, like he had earlier held Lan Zhan’s. He also begins to trace Wei Wuxian’s mouth, following their growing curve. Wei Wuxian shuts his eyes, content for the moment to let him explore, to enjoy the careful, almost reverential, touch, and the curve of Lan Zhan’s waist beneath his own.
Then Lan Zhan’s fingertip brushes against his canine, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t miss the way it falters.
And that — hm, that’s a nice idea — so he catches it quickly but carefully between his teeth, reopening his eyes to see Lan Zhan giving him a wary look. Grin widening, Wei Wuxian presses his tongue against his finger, has just enough time to curl it around the tip before Lan Zhan tears it away.
‘Wei Ying.’
Ah, he’s still so skittish! Not that Wei Wuxian minds. His ears are very pretty in that shade, as is his neck, and — ohh, there’s a hint of pink at the base of his smooth throat, and it is suddenly very important that Wei Wuxian finds out just how far that flush can spread.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he says, smoothing his hands up Lan Zhan’s sides, before tugging at a fold of his robes. ‘Let’s get rid of these now, ah?’
‘Mm,’ replies Lan Zhan, barely audible, until Wei Wuxian makes no move to undress him and he begins to glare again, being far too conscious by this point of Wei Wuxian’s little whims.
He is absolutely right to be wary. Wei Wuxian tugs him closer, arches his neck back to meet his eyes, lashes low and sultry.
‘Well? Go ahead.’
That perfect sweeping jaw tightens. Wei Wuxian rubs at his back, wanting to enjoy the moment for just a moment more before relenting and doing it himself — he won’t push Lan Zhan too far, he wants him attractively embarrassed, not uncomfortable — but then Lan Zhan is undoing his sash with short, perfunctory motions, objectively a very unsexy way to undress, but it makes Wei Wuxian give a low, appreciative hum, because fuck, he really hadn’t thought Lan Zhan would do it.
‘You’re so good to me,’ he says happily, laying a kiss on the dip of Lan Zhan’s throat and watching it flush darker. ‘Really so good, Lan Zhan, I’m so lucky…’
‘Stop talking.’
Wei Wuxian beams into his neck. So shy! So cute!
The outer robe falls to the floor with a soft rustle, and before Lan Zhan can move to fold it like he is surely about to, Wei Wuxian opens his mouth against his skin.
It seems to be as perfect a distraction as he’d hoped — Lan Zhan stills, breath quietly catching, and stays absolutely still as Wei Wuxian — gently, gently — sets his teeth against the column of his neck, reaching to push off Lan Zhan’s under robe himself.
Warm skin beneath his fingers, shifting with short quick silent breaths, an equally rapid pulse thrumming beneath his lips. He bites down, very slightly. Lan Zhan makes a tiny sound, flinches, his jaw shifting against Wei Wuxian’s cheek.
Wei Wuxian tugs the robe over his smooth warm shoulders, and leaves it there, slipping down his arms. Pulls back to admire his work.
And ah, his work is so very admirable.
He has achieved almost everything he’d wanted to see in Lan Zhan — the flushed cheeks, the creased brow, the expression that says that he wants Wei Wuxian, wants what Wei Wuxian can do to him — but his hair is still frustratingly neat, in Wei Wuxian’s opinion, so he reaches up and runs his fingers through it, pushing back from Lan Zhan’s temple, index finger brushing against the line of his forehead ribbon. Threads them carefully up until they find the tie holding its simple half-up style, gives it a gentle tug.
‘Can I?’
‘Mm.’
He draws it out, with care, and Lan Zhan’s silken hair slips slowly to fall about his ears in gorgeous perfect disarray.
Wei Wuxian is absolutely transfixed.
Lan Zhan looks deeply embarrassed.
And the blush, Wei Wuxian discovers — when he is able to again move his eyes — does in fact extend past his throat, spreading rosy wings across the bare expanse of his chest. Wei Wuxian wants to kiss it, so does, and Lan Zhan arches ever so slightly into him, probably unconsciously, spine curving beneath his hands.
‘Wei Ying,’ he says, voice less velvet-smooth than usual. His hands are on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, and he looks up at him, smiles.
‘You should undress me too, Lan Zhan,’ he says, and Lan Zhan does. Much less dispassionately than he did himself, untying Wei Wuxian’s sash with hands that might almost shake, unthreading it with a slow rasp of fabric-on-fabric. Wei Wuxian watches him, drinking in the sight with shameless enjoyment, committing the elegant lines of Lan Zhan’s torso to memory. The way they shift and stretch as he carefully draws Wei Wuxian’s outer robe down his arms, how, for a long moment, they still entirely after his hesitant parting of the under robe, how red infuses them further when Wei Wuxian laughs at him softly.
‘Do you like what you see, Lan-er-gege?’ he teases, pleased. He doesn’t need an answer — knows it by the slight parting of Lan Zhan’s lips, and, yes, by the unmistakeable shape in his thin silk inner-pants, which Wei Wuxian is finding it a little difficult to keep his eyes — and hands — off, but he can’t just suddenly grab for Lan Zhan’s cock without warning, can he?
So first, he slips his hands down a little, until his fingertips are just brushing against the fabric of Lan Zhan’s pants, and watches his reaction very closely as he inches them beneath the waistband.
‘Wei Ying…’
It’s unsteady, in a way that could be either good or bad, and Wei Wuxian stops moving. ‘Should I slow down, Lan Zhan? Stop?’
Lan Zhan breathes in, before shutting his mouth and shaking his head silently. Wei Wuxian almost flinches at a sudden touch to his wrist, and it’s his turn to be speechless as Lan Zhan wraps long fingers around his hand and guides it — further down — over a swell of smooth soft skin and ah, Wei Wuxian is in danger of having no blood left for his head…
Folding to temptation, he sinks his fingers in and Lan Zhan makes another small wordless painfully sexy noise and arches in again, inadvertently pressing his hardness into Wei Wuxian’s stomach. He flinches back but Wei Wuxian thoughtlessly drags him back in.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he says, and curls the fingers of his unoccupied hand around the waistband of Lan Zhan’s inner-pants. ‘I want to take these off, can I?’
Lan Zhan draws in a couple of breaths — to steady himself, Wei Wuxian thinks, unashamedly proud of himself — before replying ‘Yes,’ and turning his face away again as Wei Wuxian eagerly continues, tugging his pants down his thighs and releasing his cock. It looks hard, painfully so. Flushed a beautiful colour, hardly any darker than the shade Lan Zhan’s ears are turning beneath the scrutiny.
‘Wei Ying,’ he grits out, and Wei Wuxian blinks up at him innocently.
‘Sorry, sorry, am I embarrassing you? You’ve got a lovely cock though, really, you shouldn’t—’
‘Wei Ying!’
Wei Wuxian giggles a bit before reining himself in, and dropping a quick apologetic kiss on Lan Zhan’s collarbone. ‘Ah, forgive me. I know. I’m teasing you too much, aren’t I?’ He rubs Lan Zhan’s thighs soothingly, and he relaxes slightly against him.
Tilting his head back, Wei Wuxian meets his eyes. There’s some embarrassment still lingering there, a little uncertainty, but it vanishes when Wei Wuxian smiles.
‘Are you alright, Lan Zhan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it okay like this?’
Wei Wuxian slips one hand around to press at the base of Lan Zhan’s spine, smallest finger resting on the curve of his ass.
Lan Zhan knows what he means. He nods, before pushing away — Wei Wuxian suppresses an instinctive whine — and reaching for the low table by his bedside. Wei Wuxian takes the opportunity to wriggle out of his own inner-pants, while consoling himself with the nice view.
It is a very good distraction, he must admit.
Still, Lan Zhan isn’t gone for long, settling dutifully back into his lap, boundless warm skin now completely unhindered by clothing, and it takes Wei Wuxian a moment to notice the small jar in his hand.
‘That is,’ he says, and then stops. Eyes Lan Zhan, who stares back, impassive aside for the ears and neck and chest. ‘You’ve done this before?’
His lips press together for a moment. Wei Wuxian thinks that he might be biting them.
‘Myself.’
‘Oh,’ Wei Wuxian says, and is absolutely delighted.
He will — yes, he’ll definitely have to revisit that, find out the whens and whys and how longs and what were you thinking ofs and the did you ever imagine me, by any chance, Lan Zhans — but he’ll leave it for later, because Lan Zhan is looking away again, clearly tense.
‘Well, that’s good!’ he says, hands finding Lan Zhan’s waist again, thumbs smoothing little calming circles. ‘One of us should know what we’re doing.’
Lan Zhan’s eyes dart back to him. He laughs.
‘Aiyah, what’s that look for! You think I’m some kind of man-about-town, running around throwing flowers at everyone I see?’ He holds three fingers up by his temple, very solemnly. ‘I’m very faithful, I promise.’
‘Ridiculous,’ Lan Zhan murmurs, but there’s something tugging at the corner of his lips.
‘You just wait, Lan Zhan! I’ll make you take that back.’
‘Mm.’
And now he’s smiling properly! Very nice. Wei Wuxian is great at this.
‘Yes, I’ll be known across the land for it,’ he continues, dragging his fingertips up Lan Zhan’s sides and delighting in his slight shiver. ‘Wei Wuxian! they will say, Noblest and most faithful! Ah, Second Young Master Lan truly is so blessed, however did he secure the affections of one so peerlessly dedicated…’
He trails off, grinning briefly into the lips suddenly pressing at the corner of his own, before turning his head to properly kiss Lan Zhan back. It heats quickly, embers which have smouldered for minutes — hours — alright, years — flaring to life, in the pit of his stomach, his chest, his neck, in his left shoulder where one of Lan Zhan’s hands lie, in his fingertips clutching Lan Zhan’s hips close, in the air between their lips when they part, just enough to breathe, just when they have to.
Wei Wuxian knows that Lan Zhan uncapped that little jar, and used it, and reached back. Knows it by the flex of Lan Zhan’s back beneath his touch and the twitching of his thighs and the oh-so-quiet sounds on the edge of his hearing.
Some day, he wants to do it himself, and for longer. To find Lan Zhan’s sweet spots, an unhurried exploration, make him writhe and gasp. Some day, another day. Right now, there’s no fucking time, neither of them have the time or patience for that, he needs Lan Zhan, right now, and Lan Zhan needs him too, and—
Lan Zhan is taking his cock in hand and sinking down onto him.
Wei Wuxian stops thinking.
Just feels.
Warmth, velvet warmth, and hot skin beneath his hands, silken hair brushing his collarbone, a mouth on his, not kissing, just breathing together, together.
It’s over too soon.
When Wei Wuxian’s mind is working again, it is working on a way to keep going and do that again — fuck, he wants to do that again, possibly for the rest of his life. He feels the prickle of spiritual power being used in close proximity, and ah, good idea, Lan Zhan is so smart…
Electric with energy from his golden core, Wei Wuxian opens his eyes.
Lan Zhan’s are still closed. The flush has stained his cheeks like a wash of crimson ink. His lips are even darker, slightly open, faintly indented with teeth marks. Some of them may have been from Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian is still inside him, and he is hard again. Very much so.
Lan Zhan is looking back at him, now, soft but still heated, and just as hard as Wei Wuxian.
‘Lan Zhan,’ Wei Wuxian whispers, stroking his spine. ‘Lan Zhan…’
He presses their foreheads together, quietly replies: ‘Wei Ying.’
And that’s all that needs to be said, isn’t it? Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to ask Lan Zhan if he liked it, doesn’t need to tell him that he liked it, doesn’t need to ask if he wants to keep going. He knows, they both know.
‘Can I move you?’
He feels Lan Zhan nod against him, and shifts his hands with more purpose, supporting Lan Zhan’s back as he slowly pushes them both over, laying Lan Zhan back upon the sheets — and oh, Wei Wuxian’s memory may be spotty but he will never forget this — Lan Zhan beneath him, hair in beautiful gossamer eddies, black on the white silk.
This time, Wei Wuxian is determined to keep his presence of mind, and is mostly successful. He starts slow, an unhurried slide of skin on skin, and Lan Zhan closes his eyes and quietly enjoys it. Wei Wuxian presses kisses to his temple, his hairline. Strokes his free hand up the long decadent line of Lan Zhan’s body, murmurs to him — nothing he will remember, just a hushed river of compliments and encouragements and endearments.
Something sparks, eventually, and Wei Wuxian is biting at Lan Zhan’s lovely neck and lifting his waist and driving into him, and quick gasping breaths are escaping from high in Lan Zhan’s throat and his fingers are gripping tight at Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.
It slows again, doesn’t subside. Wei Wuxian has just sacrificed speed for strength, slamming into Lan Zhan with rough snaps of his hips, each one drawing a close-lipped little sound from Lan Zhan, until Wei Wuxian must hit something and his mouth opens for a short punched-out cry, neck arching.
Fuck — fuck. Wei Wuxian has to shove himself up onto his hands and squeeze his eyes shut and drop his head until the pounding heat washing over him recedes, slightly, and he can stagger back from the edge which he had very nearly toppled right fucking off. Too soon, too soon — he wants to last this time, damn it!
A gentle tug at his hair captures his attention. Lan Zhan is looking up at him, a small, happy, almost lazy smile on his lips — a blissed-out Lan Zhan, fuck — and he releases the trailing end of Wei Wuxian’s hair to reach for him.
‘Wei Ying,’ he says, and Wei Wuxian moves down with a smile.
‘Yes?’ He kisses Lan Zhan’s cheek, his nose, his smiling lips. ‘Are you enjoying yourself, Lan-er-gege?’
At that, Lan Zhan sighs, louder and more plainly exasperated than Wei Wuxian has ever heard. He’s laughing even as Lan Zhan calls him ‘Shameless’, leaning a careful elbow above his head to kiss him, sweet and short.
‘Mm, shameless,’ he agrees into Lan Zhan’s mouth, with a languid roll of his hips.
Lan Zhan bites him.
Just a little nip against his lower lip, barely felt, but still — Lan Zhan bit him!
Wei Wuxian moans a tiny bit, laughs again, and licks the place Lan Zhan bit, before happily returning the favour. Teases Lan Zhan’s neck with his teeth until it’s covered in small scarlet blooms and Lan Zhan is pliant and gasping beneath him. Still, he keeps the motion of his hips unhurried, rhythmic, a slow stroke that reaches deep inside Lan Zhan and makes him shiver.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t say how long that lasts, but this time he doesn’t mind it, doesn’t mind getting lost in Lan Zhan in this way, when he can savour it properly. And savour it he does — savours the soft strong thighs around his waist, beneath one hand, the other laced with Lan Zhan’s, brushed by the silken strands of his hair.
He couldn’t say how long it lasts — just knows that, eventually, those thighs start to tremble around him, and soon after, Lan Zhan gives a quiet gasp of his name, his body clenching and tightening around Wei Wuxian’s cock — and in response something draws hot and tight in Wei Wuxian, his thrusts becoming hard and messy and erratic as Lan Zhan’s come drips hot down his stomach. His hips shudder, driving as deep into Lan Zhan as they can, and Wei Wuxian fills him with a moan muffled by the teeth he sinks into his lip.
‘Wei Ying,’ he hears Lan Zhan say, gentle fingers running up his arms. ‘Wei Ying.’
‘Ah,’ Wei Wuxian gasps, when he can. ‘Fuck. Lan Zhan. Ah, I— that—’
He then decides actually, fuck words, and kisses Lan Zhan instead. Maybe he’s rubbing off on him…
Wei Wuxian gives a small, dazed laugh at that, because how can he not, and pulls back to find Lan Zhan smiling at him.
He will never get sick of that. Literally. Never.
Beaming back, he pets at Lan Zhan’s cheek.
‘Bath?’ he suggests, and Lan Zhan sighs again.
~
Wei Wuxian does end up drawing Lan Zhan, much later, after bathing with him, and getting breathtakingly fucked by him, and bathing with him again, and being pulled staunchly to the bed by him exactly when the night-bells ring for nine. But while Lan Zhan is naked, it doesn’t show — he’s covered to the waist by the sheet, asleep upon Wei Wuxian’s chest, beautifully painfully peaceful.
It’s the best thing that he’s ever drawn, and probably the best thing that he ever will draw, if he doesn’t count the one of Lan Zhan he’ll draw tomorrow night, or the night after that, or the night after that — and, well, Wei Wuxian doesn’t plan of letting go of Lan Zhan anytime soon, so he might as well add every night after that one, too, for the rest of his life.