Archive of Our Own

On the first clear night in early spring, Wei Wuxian watches Lan Zhan settle gracefully across the table from him, and comes to a decision. The Jingshi is warm and cozy, and Lan Zhan looks soft, relaxed. It's time to take the plunge.

It’s been weeks - months now, actually - since they found each other on that wind-battered mountaintop and Lan Zhan tore down the barrier of silence between them with both hands. Shock turned to confusion, then to joy, and Wei Wuxian will never be able to repay him for taking that leap, but he thinks, perhaps, he needs to do something similar himself now.

His plan is simple, if not exactly easy. First:

“Lan Zhan,” he begins, “I know you’ve had something on your mind.”

He’s not sure what it is, but it’s definitely something. And he’s pretty certain it has to do with a particular morning, of about a week ago, when a restless night of dreams and memories had convinced him it would be a great idea to enact some strange, twisted fantasy, and Lan Zhan had actually gone along with it. And then some. It had been...confusing. Amazing, yes, definitely, heavens, but also...Lan Zhan had sort of...well, the fact is, Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand what happened.

There is a fear in the back of his mind that he caused this whole problem by going too far. He said things, asked Lan Zhan to do things, without warning. And worse, he essentially ignored his pleas for mercy. This fear is quieted somewhat by Lan Zhan's genuine, fervent denials that anything had felt bad, but beyond that, Lan Zhan will say nothing. A cousin of their old, two-sided silence has risen up between them again: Lan Zhan refusing to say anything at all about sex, merely falling into bed and fucking him in their usual way, and Wei Wuxian too guilty to ask why.

But it stops tonight. If nothing was bad, then it follows that something was good, and Lan Zhan is just as hesitant to ask for things as Wei Wuxian.

Lan Zhan looks up from his teapot, and says nothing. Wei Wuxian expected this. He hasn’t yet been specific enough to draw out a reaction. This is because he’s afraid that when he gets specific, Lan Zhan will startle and retreat.

His best idea to combat this is inspired by the most basic of concepts: balance.

“I know it’s not easy for you to talk about things sometimes, so how about this,” he pauses. Last chance before the point of no return. But he can do this. They need this, to get over whatever...whatever it is they’ve run up against. They've been doing so well with actually communicating, he won't let confusing but ultimately good sex break the streak. “I’ll tell you something secret that I want, and then you tell me something secret that you want.”

Lan Zhan sets out their cups, giving himself time to think. Then, “You need not arrange a diplomatic exchange of information,” he says. “You can simply tell me. I will be glad to hear it.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Fond frustration swells in his chest at the blatant avoidance of his first point - it’s not surprising that Lan Zhan should deflect when it comes to his wants, or secrets, or heavily weighing thoughts. But Wei Wuxian won’t be deterred. He shuffles around the table to crowd into Lan Zhan’s space, pressing the outsides of their thighs together. He leans an elbow on the table in front of him, and looks up at him through his lashes. He skirts the edge of flirtation, conscious of the dangers of leaning into it too soon.

“It wouldn’t be fair. I feel too demanding if you don't get something out of it, too.” This is the heart of his worry. It's hard not to pass it off as a pouting joke.

They’re so close he can feel Lan Zhan’s steady breath on his face. He watches him blink slowly, his fierce eyes soft just for him, and part his plush lips to speak.

“I will get something out of giving you what you want.”

The words constrict something in Wei Wuxian’s chest. It pokes at his old reflex to laugh, to change the subject. He wants to kiss his perfect mouth and say no more, but he can’t. Not yet. He has a goal, and it involves words more than anything else.

"But you might not,” he says. “You know how important it is to me that you do, right? I don't want you to agree to something and then...and then feel weird, or bad. And I don't want you to...to assume things, if I want something you don’t understand.”

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, his brow furrowing minutely in what is, for him, ardent concern. He’s realized they’re talking about something specific, now, rather than an abstract. "I will listen to what you want. If I have questions, I will ask them. And if it is something I can give to you, I will.'

Wei Wuxian’s heart is in a vice. It’s actually painful, to love and be loved this way, but he’s fairly sure he would simply stop breathing if it were somehow suddenly taken away. It’s well worth it to put in this tiny, if mortifying, piece of work.

"If it sounds like something you want to give," he corrects him. "Only if."

Lan Zhan’s eyes are wary, but he nods.

“And you won’t...you won’t make me do it alone,” he adds, smoothing his fingers down the embroidery on Lan Zhan’s chest. “You’ll tell me, if I tell you?” Lan Zhan looks like he’s about to object, so Wei Wuxian summons his courage and cuts him off. “I hate thinking there’s something unsaid between us. Something I could do, or stop doing, to make you happy, if only I knew. I know some things are...complicated. To say out loud. And I don’t want to force you. But I…” he keeps his eyes on the delicate needlework under his fingertips. His face is heating, but he will get this out. Lan Zhan did his part on the mountain top, with higher stakes. This is the least he can do. “I want you to know that I want to know you. Every part of you. There’s no place for judgment or shame between us.” He shakes his head and meets his gaze. “I won’t allow it.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes are so wide and vulnerable as to put Wei Wuxian in mind of when they were young. His mouth is open, just barely, and Wei Wuxian is once again tempted to put his tongue in it. Instead he holds himself still, and waits. At length, Lan Zhan raises one hand from his lap to trace Wei Wuxian’s face, still staring as if he’s something surprising. Something precious.

Wei Wuxian valiantly does not squirm. He takes hold of Lan Zhan’s hand and turns his head to press a kiss to the broad palm, the calloused fingertips. “Do you hear me?” He asks.

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says. “I love you.”

The smile that overtakes Wei Wuxian’s face is slow but unstoppable. He straightens, places his other hand against Lan Zhan’s jaw, and leans in close as if to finally kiss him. He stops, a hair’s breadth away, to breathe, “I love you,” before skimming his mouth along his cheek. He sweeps his thumb across those full, pink lips, and murmurs into his ear. “This is my secret: I love it when you press my wrists into the bed. I can’t stop thinking about it. So what I want...is for you to tie me down, and then have your way with me.”

He feels more than hears Lan Zhan’s sharp intake of breath. He presses a quick kiss below his ear, and leans back enough to see his face. He’s gone slightly pink all over. His eyes are dark, but they search his face uncertainly.

Wei Wuxian chews his lip. “I’m sorry if that’s-”

“No,” Lan Zhan cuts him off, his fingers tightening unconsciously where they’ve fallen on his shoulder. “No judgment. No shame. I only...wonder.”

“I know,” says Wei Wuxian, and folds himself forward against Lan Zhan’s chest. This is where his willingness to speak plainly fails him. He’s not sure he can articulate why he wants what he wants, and the parts that he could, he’s not sure he can say. The fact that, after the other morning, he feels as if he should be...restrained. Held back, from pushing, and pushing, without asking permission...is now no small part of it.

He wraps his arms around him, sighing when strong arms surround him in turn. He speaks facing Lan Zhan’s throat. “I can’t...I can’t explain it. I've thought of it since...since you used to silence me, if I’m honest. And maybe it sounds...wrong. But I...”

“No.” Lan Zhan rubs his back with both of his big, warm hands. “I understand.”

Wei Wuxian shuts his eyes and presses a kiss to the skin before him. It’s soft, and warm, and smells of the mellow woody floral that follows wherever Lan Zhan goes. He can feel his steady pulse against his lips. He moves in closer and opens his mouth against it, tastes it with his tongue. The pulse quickens, and Lan Zhan’s chest rises and falls heavily in the cage of Wei Wuxian’s arms.

“Tell me how?” Wei Wuxian says.

“Hmm?” The question vibrates against Wei Wuxian’s lips.

“How you understand.”

Lan Zhan goes still. He’s silent for several breaths. “I will try.”

“Later?” Wei Wuxian asks, mouthing at the soft place below his ear.

“Later."

Wei Wuxian hums acceptance of this, pleased to have laid the foundations he hoped to lay. The hardest part over, he begins to suck a wet kiss into Lan Zhan's throat. He loves this, loves finally giving into the constant temptation of Lan Zhan’s uncommonly long, elegant neck. He loves the easy way Lan Zhan lets him in closer, tipping his head away, his breath coming quicker and his fingers spasming on Wei Wuxian’s back. He could do just this for hours and probably get off on it. He might even be able to get Lan Zhan off like this, too, he's so beautifully sensitive here.

"Lan Zhan," he says, "d'you think we could get off just from this? I think we could. Wanna try? I think if I--"

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan cuts him off, sounding just a little bit out of breath. Wei Wuxian smiles against the mark he's working into his skin. "I thought...I thought you wanted…"

Wei Wuxian freezes, then pulls back to look at him. "Right now?"

Lan Zhan looks a little dazed, a little nervous. "Why not?"

"I...I thought you'd have to think about it. Get used to the idea. I didn’t want to rush you."

"There is no rush," Lan Zhan says, brushing Wei Wuxian’s hair behind his shoulder. "I do not feel rushed. I...” he blushes again, color rising prettily atop his cheekbones. “I want to make you feel good. Whenever you like."

“Now is...now is good,” Wei Wuxian says, his mouth dry, his entire body flushing with heat. This had not been the conclusion of the plan. But he’d be an idiot not to go with it. “If. Yeah.”

Lan Zhan swallows visibly, then rises to his feet, bringing Wei Wuxian with him. His face set with determination, he turns toward the bed, but Wei Wuxian drags him back in by his wrist to kiss that look off his face. Lan Zhan kisses back with desperate sweetness, cradling his jaw as he presses love into his mouth. He tips their foreheads together, after, and they simply stand there, breathing the same air. Wei Wuxian wonders for the thousandth time why he gets to have this wonderful, unimaginable man in all these wonderful, unimaginable ways.

After a long moment, Wei Wuxian undoes his black leather belt. Lan Zhan catches his arms and unwinds his wrist wraps one by one, then helps slide his robes off his shoulders as he unties them. They both move unusually slowly, each touch lingering, each removed layer a pause for breath, for grounding. When Wei Wuxian is left in only his trousers, Lan Zhan goes to shrug off his own outer robe. Wei Wuxian stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” he says. The quiet suddenly feels almost tangible, a soft thing that pads every surface, including his skin, his voice. He rummages through his discarded clothes until he finds the red sash of his innermost robe, and presses it into Lan Zhan’s hand. “This first.”

He leads Lan Zhan to the bed and moves to the middle of it while Lan Zhan sits facing him. Suddenly, he shivers. He feels separate, cut off from Lan Zhan, from what they’re doing, from his own desire. He feels small. And cold. He has the distinct impression that his attempt at communication has ended up entirely selfish in outcome. He’s here, half naked, taking advantage of Lan Zhan yet again. Rushing in headlong, no doubt to fuck things up as he always does. He reaches out without thinking, takes his hand, and Lan Zhan squeezes it. Brings it up to his lips. Wei Wuxian leans into it, into him, dropping his head to his shoulder, just to feel his warmth. He should stop this. Slow it down, at least. Until he knows what Lan Zhan truly wants.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighs. “I was trying to be responsible for once, but here we are, doing what I want, instead of talking about what you want.”

Lan Zhan rubs his back in slow, sweeping motions, and takes a deliberate breath.

“Wei Ying,” he says, and Wei Wuxian feels some of his tension disperse at just that. “I will not say I understand why you want this. But the idea of you...simply...receiving my touch, and enjoying it, without reciprocation…is appealing. To me.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathes, heat rising in his blood once more. He hadn’t thought of this in those terms, and the thought that Lan Zhan might be turned on by it is...thought-provoking.

“But if you need time--”

“No,” Wei Wuxian interrupts him. The strangeness has passed as quickly as it had come, replaced by swirling theories and questions about what it is, exactly, that Lan Zhan might say he wants when the time comes. But that time is later, they agreed. Now, they have other business. He straightens and smiles at him.

“You’re the best, did you know that?” He says, disgustingly earnest and unable to hide it. He immediately overcompensates. “Hurry up and tie me down before this wandering rogue takes liberties with the venerable Hanguang-Jun.”

Lan Zhan huffs the way he does when he’s pretending to be annoyed, but really he’s pleased. Wei Wuxian only smiles wider and lays out on the bed, hands behind his head to show himself off. Lan Zhan’s tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“How would you...like. Your hands?”

Wei Wuxian bites his lip in a show of thinking about it. In truth he’s thought about very little else since he decided to mention it, but lacking practical application of his theories, he’s still not sure what will be best. “Let’s try it like this first,” he says, setting his hands on either side of his head. It’s the simplest, most intuitive idea he’s had.

Lan Zhan stares at them. “Are you sure?” He’s not asking about the placement.

“Yes. Very.” He’s never been so sure.

“You will tell me if anything is wrong. Anything at all.”

“Right away. I promise.” Wei Wuxian places a hand on Lan Zhan’s wrist. “I only want this at all because it's you. Because I...I trust you so much it actually turns me on. But listen. Are you sure?”

Lan Zhan is watching him with his softest, most sincere look. It stops Wei Wuxian’s breath in his chest.

“I am sure,” he says.

He leans over to wrap the end of the sash around Wei Wuxian’s right wrist. The lace of his outer robe brushes across his bare chest as he ties it securely.

“Like this?”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian breathes. It’s already good. Lan Zhan leaning over him, the different fabrics against his skin. It’s like a teenage wet dream. It’s exactly what he wants.

Lan Zhan loops the sash through the slats of the bedframe and runs it over to loop it again nearer his other hand, and then binds that one as well. Wei Wuxian watches his elegant, nimble fingers tie the knot, and wonders hazily what he’s gotten himself into - he’s already hard inside his trousers, otherwise untouched. He tests the restraints. Lan Zhan has wrapped each several times, smoothing the sash flat, so that no edges cut into his skin when he pulls. He can move his arms around, but not enough to reach out and touch anything. His heart pounds, a confusing combination of affection, arousal, and anticipation swirling through him.

He clears his throat, but it still comes out thin when he says, “Perfect, Lan Zhan.”

His eyes close briefly of their own accord when Lan Zhan runs his hand down his arm, brushing the backs of his fingers along the inside of his bicep. “And now?”

“Undress,” Wei Wuxian says. “I want to watch.” He means it, but he says it with a quirk of his mouth, expecting Lan Zhan to turn red and strip as quickly and perfunctorily as possible.

He’s half right. He does blush furiously and look away as he rises, then takes out his hair ornament with brutally efficient tugs and twists, but pauses after he removes his belt. He parts his many layers, unties his trousers, and drops them. Then he gathers up his long hems and goes to his knees on the bed. He hesitates, face and neck still tinted rosy, eyes flicking to Wei Wuxian’s face and then away.

“I have no idea what you’re doing,” Wei Wuxian says, an answer to the uncertainty, “but I really, really want you to do it.”

Lan Zhan lets out a breath, and then straddles Wei Wuxian’s thighs without sitting down, spreading his robes out loosely around their legs. Wei Wuxian bites his lip hard to keep from begging him to rid him of his own trousers, to touch him, to do anything, because he doesn’t want to interrupt whatever the fuck Lan Zhan has decided to do. He watches him take a measured breath, and then slowly shrug his outermost layer off his shoulders to drop it behind him. His eyes stay shyly downcast as he does it. He frees his hands from the discarded robe to work at the tie of the next. Then this layer, too, is parted and slipped off his broad frame.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, having reached the limit of his ability to control his mouth.

“You wanted to watch,” Lan Zhan supplies.

Wei Wuxian is dizzied as all his blood rushes south. Lan Zhan is giving him a show.

“Yeah,” he says. “I...yeah, I did. I do. Keep - keep going.”

Lan Zhan does, and it’s agonizing, the amount of layers this man wears, but at long last he drops the final long robe, baring his thighs and leaving only a thin, white tunic behind. Wei Wuxian’s breath is coming in impatient little huffs, and it's a struggle not to shift around beneath him. He grounds himself in the feel of the silk on his wrists, desperate to touch Lan Zhan but unable to, and makes himself be still in order to really watch. To drink him in.

He can see the shape of him through the fabric, backlit as he is by candlelight: the slender, secret lines of his body that only Wei Wuxian knows. He’s stunning like this. Otherworldly. The vulnerable tilt of his head bringing out the tendons in his neck. The sweep of his demurely dropped lashes, stark against pale skin. The red shock of his plush lips, parted on uneven breath. When at last he opens his tunic, Wei Wuxian is staggered by the sight. He’s seen it before, of course, but it’s somehow different from being so deliberately shown. And it's beyond gratifying to see evidence that this whole exercise is having just as much an effect on Lan Zhan as it is on him.

“You’re so...perfect,” Wei Wuxian says through a throat gone dry. He’s unable to come up with a better word. There isn’t one.

“Not as perfect as Wei Ying.” The retort is automatic, but so soft his deep voice is almost swallowed by the lush silence of the room.

Lan Zhan’s face is still turned away as he drops the tunic off his shoulders and down his arms. Wei Wuxian wants to replay the image in his mind over and over for the rest of his life. It’s the hottest thing he has ever seen. He practically worships Lan Zhan on any given day, but looking at him like this...it's hard to believe he's not an exalted immortal come down from on high. He’d thought - he’d thought the other morning had been incredible, but he’d failed to account for the fact that he couldn’t watch. He wants a do-over. He wants to try again, immediately. But he keeps his mouth shut, for fear that mentioning it at all will uproot the fragile sapling of a deeper understanding between them.

Lan Zhan keeps his forehead ribbon on, which Wei Wuxian files away to puzzle over later, and his eyes sweep to the side to meet Wei Wuxian’s as he leans down, bracing himself so that only the insides of his knees touch him, and kisses him deeply.

“And now?” He murmurs against his mouth.

“Touch me,” Wei Wuxian breathes, his heart trying to crash its way out of his chest. “Anything. Anything you want, just touch me, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan hums and goes down on one elbow to kiss him again while he runs his other hand lightly up and down his side. Wei Wuxian has never been so aware of a touch in his life. He stretches into it, his body demanding more. Lan Zhan presses him back down, firm but gentle, his warm hand so big it spans the entire curve of his ribs, and Wei Wuxian pulls unconsciously at the restraints. He wants to touch him, yank him down, climb on top of him and ride him until he can’t breathe. But he can’t. He whines into Lan Zhan’s mouth.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks.

“I’m good,” Wei Wuxian says. “Just...hurry up.”

“Hmm,” Lan Zhan says, thumbing almost absentmindedly at Wei Wuxian’s nipple, making him shiver and clench at the sash. “I could hurry up. Or I could take my time. Which would you prefer?”

Wei Wuxian blinks rapidly up at him. He doesn’t...he can’t. He wants him to hurry, he wants him to fucking get on with it already, he very much does, but...he also wants...whatever this is. This...focused tenderness. He thinks it might break him. Or fix him. He’s not entirely sure.

“I…” he tries to swallow down the odd lump in his throat. “I guess I said I wanted you to have your way with me.”

Lan Zhan blinks another slow smile at him, and ducks down to press slow, open kisses along his throat. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and holds onto the sash with tight fists as Lan Zhan works his kissing, sucking, caressing way across his chest. His hand stays active, brushing across his stomach or stopping to press strong fingertips into sensitive flesh. Every once in a while it returns to worry at a nipple for a few breaths before moving on. Wei Wuxian can hardly breathe at all by the time his mouth follows, and his teeth squeeze gently at the nub of it.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian pants. It's too much. “I...I do need you to hurry up, I changed my mind. Just. Get. I...need more.”

Lan Zhan huffs and pushes away, which is not what Wei Wuxian intended, but then he’s pulling Wei Wuxian’s trousers off and sweeping them aside with the bundle of his own robes.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian says. Lan Zhan pushes his legs apart to kneel between them. “Yeah, come on.”

Gathering all his masses of hair over one shoulder, Lan Zhan bends to kiss Wei Wuxian’s stomach, his hips, mouthing and teasing as Wei Wuxian shifts impatiently. The wet, searing brand of his mouth feels impossibly good, each slide of his tongue a slow-motion shock to his system. When We Wuxian finally lifts his hips with impatience, Lan Zhan’s hands come up to grip his thighs, holding them down and apart. Wei Wuxian groans, twitching with frustrated arousal.

“Lan Zhan. Come on, I need...I need…”

Lan Zhan sucks a kiss to the shaft of his cock. He flinches. It’s so much more intense than he ever expected, being touched without being able to touch.

“Yeah, come on Lan Zhan, it’s so, it’s -- oh, fuck,” he groans as Lan Zhan takes him into his mouth and sucks. It’s hard to believe he’s only been at this a couple of months given how absolutely, mind-blowingly good at it he is. Wei Wuxian thinks, when in possession of the ability to think at all, that it is a combination of unique single-mindedness, extraordinary determination, and the positively obscene way in which his lips look like they were made for it. Wei Wuxian bites the inside of his cheek and makes himself watch until he can’t anymore, until Lan Zhan takes him deeper and swallows around him, and he throws his head back against the pillow.

“Lan Zhan, ah, I, ah, you’re so fucking good, you’re too good, I need - fuck - okay, okay, stopstopstop,” he says, and Lan Zhan pulls off and lets go. For a moment, Wei Wuxian just stares at the state of him. Naked and flushed, his mouth bruised and sloppy with spit. Awe-inspiringly beautiful.

“Wei Ying,” he says, concern coming through the abused rasp in his voice. He leans forward, reaching for Wei Wuxian’s wrist. “Should I-”

“No! No, don’t,” Wei Wuxian says, and he stops. “I’m alright. I just...didn’t want to come yet.” He wraps his legs loosely around him. “I want to feel you closer.”

Lan Zhan considers him a moment longer before nodding and pulling one of Wei Wuxian’s legs up by the back of the knee to lean down and press a kiss to his thigh. He crawls over to find their bottle of oil and then settles back in, lifting the same leg again to prop it against his shoulder.

“How many?” He asks, pressing a slicked finger against his entrance.

Weeks ago now, when they realized Wei Wuxian could reach satisfaction this way without coming, Lan Zhan began to ask how many times Wei Wuxian wanted to crest that peak, before starting this part. It’s practical, and caring, and frankly divine. Wei Wuxian often treats it as a challenge, but he doesn’t have the capacity to think, let alone count, now.

“Fuck,” Wei Wuxian exhales sharply. “I don’t know, I don’t, I can’t...just...please.”

The finger presses in, and Wei Wuxian’s body arches off the bed. It’s never...it’s never felt this much, before, he’s almost certain he’s never felt anything this intensely in the whole of his spotty memory. It’s good, but almost not, how overwhelming it feels. He’s panting with it, straining against the sash at his wrists, canting his hips for more. But Lan Zhan is still taking his time.

“Please,” Wei Wuxian begs, “I...I need you, I need you, Lan Zhan, please, just fuck me.”

Lan Zhan kisses the inside of his thigh once more, working two fingers in and out of him. “Just a moment longer,” he says. “Yes?”

“Okay. Okay. I - oh,” he groans as Lan Zhan brushes his prostate. He pushes his hips back and whines, sweat beading on his skin. “Right there. Please.”

A third finger joins the other two and Wei Wuxian gasps. The bed rattles with the force of his pulling on the restraints. It’s frustrating in the best way not to be able to move how he wants, to be reduced to Lan Zhan’s hands on him and the words between them. Lan Zhan presses and rubs at his prostate, but he twists his hips away from it.

“Not yet, not yet, please,” he says breathlessly. He knows from experience Lan Zhan will bring him over the edge as many times as he can with just his fingers, but that’s not what he wants now. “Just fuck me, please just fuck me, I want you on top of me, holding me down, I need all of you, please Lan Zhan, fuck, I--”

“Wei Ying,” says Lan Zhan, like it’s been squeezed out of his throat. He pulls his fingers out and slicks his cock, his chest flushed and heaving. Even half mad with need, Wei Wuxian appreciates the sight like he never has before, forced to helplessly watch.

When Lan Zhan pushes into him at last, his vision flares brighter and his chest goes tight. It's slow, slower than he wants, but he doesn't have the breath to ask for more. His whole body is a strange combination of boneless and wound-tight, desperate and languid. It's exhilarating and calming, somehow, to be so totally reliant on Lan Zhan to give him what he needs. Because he knows, with every fiber of his being, Lan Zhan will.

"Oh," he groans when Lan Zhan bottoms out. He's so big, it's so much, it feels like so much more than all the other times they've done this. "Oh."

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan bites out. A question.

Wei Wuxian can see the tight discipline in his every muscle, the sheen of sweat shining on his skin. Every inch of tension in him is another testament to the delicate yet unyielding nature of his love. And it hits him, suddenly, that it’s this. This is what he’d wanted. One of the most powerful people in the world, infamously strong, quantifiably deadly, putting every ounce of that strength and power into...gentleness. Into care, incomprehensibly, for him. He’s at the total, complete mercy of this man and instead of feeling fear, or uncertainty, or even the adrenaline of a fight, he feels only love. And focused, helpless, heart-stopping pleasure.

He bends the knee still propped up on Lan Zhan’s shoulder, trying to bring him closer. He feels unexpectedly exposed, flayed open and bare. He needs Lan Zhan to cover him, as he always does.

"Fuck me,” he breathes.

Lan Zhan bends forward to brace one hand beside Wei Wuxian's head, and one by his ribs. Their eyes meet, the air between them humid and close. With a controlled roll of his body, Lan Zhan pulls out and pushes back in. Wei Wuxian moans at the wonderful fullness of it. Lan Zhan does it again, and the silk sash is properly biting into Wei Wuxian’s wrists now, and he doesn’t want to know what it means that he likes that too, but Lan Zhan is fucking him, deep and slow, and he can’t - he can’t -

“Almost,” he gasps, lifting his other knee until Lan Zhan takes hold of it and presses it down, folding Wei Wuxian properly in half. The angle now is deeper, different, and it lights threads of fire that burn and pulse through all of his limbs with each thrust.

“Yes, oh, oh, Lan Zhan, there, yes, there,” he pants as it builds. It’s coming on fast, he can feel it bearing down on him like the pressure preceding a storm, but unlike any other time, he can’t grab on, move harder, faster, anything to just get there already - he simply has to lie there and let it happen to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, drawing out the word as his first dry orgasm rolls languourously through him. His body spasms and Lan Zhan grunts but only falters slightly. His hand slips from Wei Wuxian’s leg and he braces both hands back on the bed, Wei Wuxian’s knees in the crooks of his elbows as he fucks him through it, keeping pace.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says when he can form words again, “that was - this is - fuck, Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying?” He pauses, his dark eyes searching, the lines of his face drawn tight with effort. Wei Wuxian wants to smooth it away.

“So good,” he manages. “So fucking good. Do it again?”

Lan Zhan lets out a sharp breath and bows his head once more in concentration. He snaps his hips and Wei Wuxian arches into it, reaching for the contact he needs. He finds it, but only just.

“Deeper,” he says, “deep- yes, that’s...oh, but, oh, Lan Zhan.” It’s agonizingly close, he just needs more, but he can’t hold Lan Zhan where he needs him like this, and his words are failing. “Just - ah - stay, stay there and, right there, and, fuck, oh, fuck. Yes.”

Lan Zhan fucks deep into him and stays there, grinding against his prostate with steady, mind-numbing circles of his hips. Wei Wuxian stops talking. He’s so full, so stimulated, so overwhelmed by every part of this. His eyes are wide open but he sees nothing, his mouth is open but no sound comes out. Lan Zhan’s rhythm stays maddeningly constant, unrelenting as Wei Wuxian gasps and flexes beneath him, moaning obscenely as his second orgasm sweeps inexorably over him in deep, bone-shattering waves.

This time, Lan Zhan stops moving when it’s over. He releases Wei Wuxian’s legs just before he collapses onto his forearms, his forehead resting on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. His shuddering breaths are just barely audible over the ringing in Wei Wuxian’s ears.

“Wei Ying,” he breathes. He trails fingers down Wei Wuxian’s stomach, requesting permission to end this. He’s reached his limit early - the reason he’s come to ask how many times Wei Wuxian wants to go over the edge is so that he can get him there with his fingers, first, if it’s more than three or four. But tonight, it seems, Wei Wuxian isn’t the only one particularly affected.

“One more,” says Wei Wuxian quietly, into Lan Zhan’s damp hair. He’s not ready for it to be over, not yet. “One more like this.”

Lan Zhan drops an almost imperceptible millimeter lower before gathering himself and pushing up onto his knees. He hauls Wei Wuxian’s hips up and slams into them with shocking precision, making Wei Wuxian cry out and curse. The sight of him, frantic and powerful, is almost enough to drive Wei Wuxian back over the edge. Almost.

“More,” he demands, “I need...I need…”

His arms strain at the restraints. He’s so close, and so desperate to help, to push, to do something. But then Lan Zhan bends over him again, to grip Wei Wuxian’s wrists atop the restraints, and use all his weight to press them into the bed. Wei Wuxian’s mouth drops open on a shocked moan. The angle is much more awkward this way, but it feels - it feels -

“Don’t stop. Don’t - don’t stop. I, oh, Lan Zhan, oh, oh,” he wails, as his third orgasm blasts through him.

Lan Zhan goes still over him as soon as it tapers off. He’s trembling with the effort of holding back, sweat beading and occasionally dripping off him. His eyes look almost pained.

“Wei-”

“Don’t come yet,” Wei Wuxian breathes through the increasingly thick post-orgasm haze in his mind. “Don’t come, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan makes a sound as if he’s been hit with something large and heavy and pulls out. He stays like that on all fours, his head hanging low, chest heaving, for what seems like ages. Wei Wuxian looks down and sees his dark, leaking cock, and comes to his senses. He swallows.

“I...I don’t know why I said that,” he says. His voice is hoarse from crying out. “I didn’t...you can. You can just-”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan cuts him off. “Tell me.”

“Tell you.”

“What...to do.”

Wei Wuxian feels it like a shot of adrenaline, clearing his mind and hardening his own cock impossibly further. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” Lan Zhan breathes.

Like a lightning strike, his memory links this moment with the strange morning last week. Use me, Lan Zhan had said. Had pleaded. Is it...does he…Wei Wuxian’s breath stalls in his lungs and suddenly he knows exactly what he wants Lan Zhan to do. But it may not be possible. He flexes his wrists. They’ve come this far.

“You can say no,” he starts in a rush, “but what I really want...is for you to, to,” he clears his throat. “To sit on my cock. I want you to get me off, like that.”

Lan Zhan’s body curls in on itself, and he groans. “I,” he pants, “I may not-”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian says, wishing more than ever that he could wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. “I know, Lan Zhan. My love. But do you...want to try?”

Lan Zhan nods his bowed head and takes a deep, shuddering breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. Then another. And another. His hand darts out to snatch up the bottle of oil and he sits back on his heels for a moment to coat his fingers with it. Wei Wuxian swallows hard, entranced by the sight of him glistening in the candle light, his ribs still expanding and contracting in heavy bursts. His expression is tense with intent as he leans down again and reaches behind to begin the painstaking work of opening himself up. His eyes close on a grimace.

“Careful,” Wei Wuxian says. He knows Lan Zhan has tried this himself, before, and the thought had turned him on, but watching it happen without touching him at all is excruciating. Being the one to relax him, to coax him, to reveal his deepest places with patience and care is one of Wei Wuxian’s favorite things. “Be careful. Don’t hurt yourself, my Lan Zhan, please. Take it slow.”

Lan Zhan’s jaw clenches and he huffs out a breath. Wei Wuxian begins to regret suggesting this, this way.

“Kiss me,” he says. Lan Zhan lets himself awkwardly down and obeys. Wei Wuxian takes control of it, gentling his mouth with slow sweetness in an attempt to take down the pace. “Be careful, I said. Or I don’t want it.”

Something gives, then, and Lan Zhan goes down hard beside him. He breathes there, for a moment, his back expanding with erratic breath, resting his face on his own arm. Then he draws one knee up, pressing it into Wei Wuxian’s side, and goes back to work.

“Like that,” Wei Wuxian says, watching the slower shift of his shoulder as he moves his fingers. “Yeah, like that. Come here, Lan Zhan, can you come closer? I want to feel you.”

Lan Zhan shifts himself over and grips Wei Wuxian’s shoulder from underneath as he slides his thigh carefully over his stomach. He buries his face in Wei Wuxian’s throat.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian breathes. If he weren’t so painfully hard, this would be almost comfortable, tied wrists and all. “Keep going.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan gasps into his skin.

“I’m here,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, lifting his head awkwardly to press his face to the top of Lan Zhan’s head. It’s agony not to hold him, but he won’t be the one to dispel the new, inexplicable intensity that the restraints have ushered in. He can feel every restless shift, every hitch of breath as Lan Zhan works himself open, and all the comfort he can offer is his voice. “I’m here, I’m here. You’re so good to me, Lan Zhan. So good. Incredible. There’s nowhere else I could be, I’m not going anywhere. Fuck, you feel so good no matter what you do, I can’t even think when you’re--”

“Stop,” Lan Zhan grits out. “Stop...saying that. Or...or I will not be able…”

“Okay, okay Lan Zhan. I’ll try. I’ll...I’ll try.”

Wei Wuxian ends up clenching his jaw so hard it hurts to stop the meaningless, wanton words from spilling out. Long, breathless minutes later, Lan Zhan’s heel is digging into Wei Wuxian’s opposite hip, and he begins mouthing aimlessly at Wei Wuxian’s throat. He groans. “Wei Ying.”

“Yeah? Are you almost there?”

He nods.

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian breathes. “Whenever you’re ready.”

They’ve never done this quite this way before. Lan Zhan takes a deep, stuttering breath and unsteadily pushes himself up to straddle Wei Wuxian’s hips. He looks disheveled and wild, staring down with wide, black eyes. Wei Wuxian has never seen this mixture of frenzied arousal and tentative desperation on his lovely face. He doesn’t know what it means.

“Take it easy,” he manages, in an effort to soothe him. “Take...take your time.”

When Lan Zhan positions himself and takes hold of Wei Wuxian’s cock, Wei Wuxian barely holds back a whimper. The first press is tight, almost too tight, and he watches Lan Zhan’s features twist in concentration, eyelashes fluttering as he lets out a long breath, and relaxes. Tight, exquisite heat envelops him as Lan Zhan slowly, steadily seats himself, and Wei Wuxian is struck silent, awed, as he watches. The dramatic, arching twist of his waist as he reaches behind himself. The way the candlelight deepens all the flat, taut lines of his muscles. The way his red-bitten mouth glistens as it hangs open. The way he feels around him.

The way it seems he’d do anything, anything Wei Wuxian asked him to like this.

“Lan Zhan wait,” he says, the thought sending a spike of unexpected heat through his belly. He’s suddenly so close he can practically taste it. But this can’t end, not now, not when he’s just realized….“Wait. Hold still, hold still, hold still.”

Lan Zhan stops, half-seated on his cock. Wei Wuxian can feel the way he’s trembling around him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, I’m so close, Lan Zhan, don’t move.”

He closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing, to pull back on the rising tide. He has limited success, seeing as how Lan Zhan’s...willingness to listen to his every request is the very thing making him crazy.

“Okay...okay you can...go on. I...oh, Lan Zhan,” he moans as Lan Zhan sits down hard on his cock with an uncharacteristic whine. “Fuck, you feel...oh, fuck.”

“How,” breathes Lan Zhan, his eyes still shut tight.

“How?”

“How do you want it,” he almost whispers.

A shock of pleasure zings up Wei Wuxian’s spine at the words. Such an obscenely wanton question from the lips of the Second Jade of Lan, for his ears alone. Such a considerate question from his visibly desperate condition. That fact that he wants to be told. With Wei Wuxian tied up and laid out for him to do as he pleases, he wants to be told what to do. But Wei Wuxian tries to breathe deeply, to get himself under control. This is new for Lan Zhan, he should dictate the pace, no matter what else is at play.

“However you want, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian bites out. “It’s so good, it doesn’t matter. Just...just want to watch you like this.”

After another great, shuddering breath, Lan Zhan begins to move. He shifts his hips back and forth, bracing his hands lightly on Wei Wuxian’s stomach. A crease appears between his brows as he moves, changing the angle, the direction, the depth, trying to find what feels best. Wei Wuxian watches, captivated, as each move drags wonderfully along his cock.

“That’s it, Lan Zhan, just like that,” he murmurs between uneven gasps. “Try...try going up higher and - ah, fuck, like that, yeah, fuck, is that good?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan moans softly, lifting up and sitting down in a jerking rhythm. His own cock is a lurid red, so hard it’s not even bouncing with the movement.

“Oh, Lan Zhan, you’re so fucking perfect like this, is it - are you- are you close?”

A noncommittal half-whimper escapes Lan Zhan’s throat. That won’t do.

“Lean...lean back and try...yeah...oh,” he cuts off at the sight of Lan Zhan reaching back to brace himself on Wei Wuxian’s thighs. The new angle must do the trick, because he groans and lets his head fall back, his long neck arching impossibly. His hips gain momentum, hard and desperate. It’s stunning to watch. Wei Wuxian feels like no matter how long this goes on, it won’t be enough to look his fill.

“Lan Zhan...Lan Zhan...touch yourself,” he breathes, on the edge of hysterics. He’s been riding the edge for so long now he’s not even sure what he’s saying or why. But of course Lan Zhan obeys. “Are you close? Are you almost there?”

Hips snapping, fist pumping in counterpoint, Lan Zhan starts to moan softly. He nods his head where it still hangs limp.

“Don’t come yet,” Wei Wuxian commands deliriously, just because he can, just to see how Lan Zhan reacts.

With a strangled whimper, Lan Zhan rips his hand away from himself and goes still save for helpless little shifts of his hips and whining, heaving breaths.

“Don’t stop,” Wei Wuxian instructs between gasps. “Keep going.”

With a mighty shudder, all his stomach muscles jumping, he slowly starts to fuck himself up and down again. Each thrust drives a high whine from his tautly curved throat, and makes his rigid cock twitch and leak a new bead of precome. But he doesn’t stop.

Just watching him like this would bring Wei Wuxian to the edge from nothing in seconds. Experiencing it like this has him hurtling toward it.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan implores, ragged. “Wei Ying.”

“Come for me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian moans, unable to delay any longer. “Come on, come with me, oh, oh,” he cries out, and fucks up into him once, twice, three times. He feels his orgasm in every single part of his body, and something cracks loudly above his head as he pulls hard against the bed frame. Lan Zhan gasps and cries out, his body arching forcefully as his cock shoots thick threads of come over them both. He shudders and falls forward, barely catching himself before he lands on Wei Wuxian’s chest.

For a long moment he holds himself up that way, shaking and trying to regain his breath.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says softly, after a while. “Can you untie me yet, or no?”

A shaking hand reaches up and clumsily picks out the knot on one of his wrists. Wei Wuxian undoes the other tie himself, and then wraps both arms around Lan Zhan to pull him down firmly on top of him. Lan Zhan collapses easily, sinking into him like dead weight.

“You can’t say no to me, can you,” Wei Wuxian asks after his trembling has subsided, one part concern for the implications of that, one part still turned on and stunned.

“Don’t want to,” Lan Zhan mumbles into the pillow beside his ear.

Wei Wuxian huffs. “But you have to say no to things you don’t want.”

“Want you.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian admonishes, “that...we can’t...I can’t. I have to know you won’t just go along with something uncomfortable or...or bad...just because I ask.”

Lan Zhan heaves a deep, heavy sigh. “I would tell you. If something was not good. But…”

“But what?”

“When Wei Ying...tells me.” He takes a breath. “Tells me what...what to do. It makes it good.”

A spark of heat flashes hot and sudden in Wei Wuxian’s belly, even wrung out and exhausted as he is. But what’s more, the confirmation relieves him. “You like it when I boss you around?”

Lan Zhan buries his face deeper into the pillow. “Mn.”

“Is that,” Wei Wuxian swallows. “Is that what happened the other morning? You...liked that part? A lot?”

He nods.

“Because I was pushy? I thought I crossed a line with that...I thought…”

Lan Zhan shakes his head furiously and shifts to bury his face in Wei Wuxian’s throat again instead. “Made me…” he clears his throat, “wait. Moved...moved me around. Took…” he releases several harsh breaths into Wei Wuxian’s skin, as if it's winding him just to say these words. Wei Wuxian rubs his scar-mottled back. “Took your pleasure from me,” he murmurs at last. “That is the thing I want.”

“Fuck, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, swallowing hard. “I...I had a feeling, but.” He notices Lan Zhan has gone still. “You know that’s incredibly fucking hot, right?”

Lan Zhan practically burrows into him. “Not as...hot. As Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian huffs and shifts them around until he can wrap his legs around him too, just to hold him closer. “You’re so good to me, Lan Zhan,” he says again because it bears repeating. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Love you,” comes the immediate reply.

Wei Wuxian blindly aims a kiss at the fall of dark hair that obscures his face. He hadn’t planned for this to be so...overwhelming. So emotional. He hadn’t planned for this at all, and yet, with Lan Zhan, he’s come to realize everything ends up better than he hopes.

“I love you,” he whispers fervently, overcome by all of it. “I love being tied down by you. I love watching you get turned on when I tell you what to do. I love waking up in your bed, and being here when you come home at the end of the day, and the moments we pass each other between. I love coming home to you after long night hunts.”

And just like that, Wei Wuxian is off on another unplanned expedition, this time into the much more dangerous realm of feelings and futures. He doesn’t have a plan for this part, but what’s life without a little improvisation?

“I love being...tied. To you,” he goes on. “I love learning something new about you every day. Lan Zhan. I love you.”

Lan Zhan emerges from his hiding place to blink slowly at him. “Wei Ying.”

“I…” Wei Wuxian can’t help but glance at his forehead ribbon, and then away. “I’m yours, Lan Zhan, truly. Forever. I mean it.”

Lan Zhan closes his eyes and nuzzles the side of his face. Wei Wuxian turns to catch him in a kiss. After a beat of unbearable sweetness, Lan Zhan breaks away just barely enough to murmur against his mouth.

“Would you like to marry me, Wei Ying?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian says, entirely devoid of air. But Lan Zhan kisses him as if he’s the only source of air in the room.

They kiss, and they kiss, and Wei Wuxian has never been happier with any decision in either of his lives.