Chapter Text
“Does it bother you?”
“Hanguang Jun, you're going to have to be more specific, you know a lot of things bother and upset your poor husband and his weak constitution.”
Wangji stares at the man lounged across from him, spread out on the grass of the aviary without a care in the world. On his chest sits a bowl of mulberries that he's been picking at, tea cup abandoned on the table between them, no doubt cold at this point.
“That we've never had sex.”
Huaisang makes a choking noise, sitting up and spilling the bowl across his lap. He thumps on his own chest before turning to Wangji, a few tears in his eyes as his choking turns to laughter, “ Hanguang Jun, oh please, you haven't been thinking that, have you? We've been married for years, over a decade and you think that bothers me?!”
Wangji feels his ears grow hot, his back stiffening as Huaisang continues to laugh at him, “It's a reasonable question-”
“Our betrothal was only made because I was the only young master that wasn't promised to anyone, save my brother; and you were the only ‘young lady’ that wasn’t promised to anyone. Theoretically, if Jiang Yanli hadn’t been promised to a son not yet born, there’s a good chance we never would’ve been betrothed at all. On top of that, it was only reinvoked due to, you know, otherwise I never would’ve married you. I never intended to wed anyone against their will, Hanguang Jun, your brother and I just did what we could to prevent you from getting punished with a disciple whip and-”
Reasonably, Wangji knew this, but it didn't stop from feeling almost like a slap across his face, the fact that their marriage had been something neither of them wanted. His stomach feels a bit like it's tied in a knot.
“-you've made it clear to me time and time again since I was seven that you very much did not like me. I can almost swear I still have a scar from where you bit and hung on to me. I mean, it didn't stop me from being in love with you all the way up until you met him, of course,” Huaisang is just talking. None of the things he's saying actually pertain to the question asked. He doesn't even know if Huaisang is even trying to answer the question, or if he's doing his best to just talk and deflect. The whole thing is being said like it's a joke and Wangji is doing his best to try to stay on topic, even as his chest hurts.
“Huaisang. That isn't an answer.”
“Well, why would you even ask the question? Is someone asking for an heir? Is it one of my elders? Is it your uncle? I'll claim I'm sterile. I've already asked General Li to pick a war orphan to pass on the Nie name-”
“No one said anything about an heir to me. I wanted to ask my husband if he was upset that his wife has never lain with him.”
Huaisang scoffs, “First of all, you told me you were born misaligned, and Qinghe refers to you as a man, therefore you're my husband. Second, I never would ask you to do that, Hanguang Jun. I have had plenty of options if I would like to relieve myself and I have used all of them before and some after we've been married.”
A finger goes up to interrupt the words that ran through Wangji’s head, answering a question he wasn't going to ask, “I haven't had sex with anyone outside of my own hand since we took our bows.”
“You're still evading my-”
“Hanguang Jun. I am not upset nor bothered by the fact that we haven't consummated our marriage. I spent nearly half my life in love with you, right up to the moment I knew you truly would never love me. We're both adults, and I have grown up and out of those romantic fantasies. You're now a friend of mine that I would do anything for, even if you don’t see me the same, and I wouldn't ruin that by hurting you myself,” Huaisang’s face has gone so serious. It doesn't look like him, “Does that answer your question?”
“... Would you like to?”
“Would I like that to answer your question? I mean-”
“No. Would you like to have sex? With me?”
There's a moment of hesitation, Huaisang just staring at him while Wangji watches the question get processed and processed through Huaisang’s mind, as if to just make sure that he didn't mishear him. When the words click, Huaisang leans back, holding the cold teacup to his mouth as he stares at Wangji. His warm eyes are now cool and calculating, but Wangji does his best to remain collected, firm and motionless as jade, even though his poor heart feels like a butterfly pinned to a table.
“... Hanguang Jun, what has prompted you to ask this husband this? Have you grown tired of using your own hands? You don't owe me anything, and you should sleep with someone you actually like, it wouldn't hurt my feelings-”
His ears burn, he can feel his cheeks following suit before he juts his chin out resolutely, “I've never- Huaisang. I'm asking you because I’m in with love you and I want to have sex with you.”
Huaisang freezes once again, his eyes searching Wangji’s face. When he speaks again, his voice is tight, “Hanguang Jun, fifteen years ago I would've burst into tears and returned your feelings, would have agreed to anything you said, but now-”
“Do you no longer feel the same?”
“You don't actually love me, Hanguang-”
Wangji clenches his hand, “Huaisang. How long has it been since I donned the Nie colors without white? You know as well as I do, there is a rule against lying in the Lan Sect. You don't get to tell me what I feel towards you.”
He seems to have robbed his husband of words, Huaisang just staring at him, holding his tongue as Wangji continues to sit there, back straight and meeting his gaze. He refuses to back down.
Time seems to drag on, each moment causing Wangji to feel uncomfortable squirming in his guts, but he feels like he’s worded his argument concisely and-
“... If you truly mean what you’re saying, Hanguang Jun, then I request that we take things slow. Find out what you like and don’t like, I know you haven’t had many sexual partners, and I would hate to ruin it for you.”
“Huaisang, I’ve never had a partner.”
“Fine, fine, no sexual partners, but you have to at least found out some things you like, and we’re going to expand on that first-”
“Huaisang. I’ve never touched myself before.”
Huaisang takes a moment, then inhales, “All the more reason to start from square one.”
~
Ever since the moment that he and his husband had agreed to sex, Wangji has felt the itch under his skin. Nothing has changed between the two of them, and yet it feels like a whole world has changed. None of the disciples nor elders or servants have treated him any differently, though it feels like they all look at him differently, like everyone knows that he professed his love to their Zongzhu, has asked to be ravished. He still sees Huaisang the typical amount, they still don’t share a room, Wangji still takes his meals save dinner alone; though he feels like he’s so much more aware of Huasang when he does see him. It’s almost like he can feel being watched by Huaisang, being taunted by the upcoming day they deigned for Wangji to finally sleep with Huaisang; but his husband hasn’t changed his actions or mannerisms towards Wangji.
He feels like he’s going crazy from the warmth he feels under his skin, the anticipation for what to come being the driving force.
It’s bold and brash, just like how the realization that he had been in love with his husband came on. It was like a summer storm, sudden and all encompassing, practically drowning him unless he had taken action and done something about it. There’s a whisper in his heart that he had done this before, when he was just Lan Zhan, the young lady of GusuLan. He knows this, has made peace with it, like he made peace with the fact that the man he loved before is well and truly dead.
But that doesn’t change or interfere with the fact that Huaisang has-
He’s changed, grown up over the years.
He still is the same lazy young lord with a flair for the dramatics and an otherwise kind and friendly demeanor. However, he seems more mature; less crude jokes and collections of erotica, more time in the Nie library archives and lending a hand in the infirmary. Wangji doesn't want to say that his husband doesn't do his job as Nie-Zongzhu, even though that much is evident, however, the sect seems to work on its own even without him.
He cannot quite claim that that is mature in any standing, nor the fact that Huaisang seems to delight in showing up in Jinlin-tai, drunk and sobbing, about some miniscule matter that Wangji himself and the Nie Elders had overlooked… though more times than naught, those matters seem to have appeared from thin air-
That all is unimportant now, though.
Wangji just needs to keep his head and calm down.
~
Huaisang rests his head on the golden pillows provided by the Jin Sect. He hates it here, he hates the smell of peonies and perfume, the silken sheets that grate his skin, the weight of the reflective light crushing his chest. It's suffocating him.
If he hadn’t been here for a specific reason, specific reasons, then he wouldn't be here-
Well, that's not entirely true.
If Hanguang Jun hadn’t said-
Huaisang covers his face with his hands.
He's a grown man, he’s made peace with the fact that Hanguang Jun wasn't and never would be in love with him. It had gotten so easy over the years, to the point where he was convinced himself that he had long lost feelings. And, to be honest, he had. Between losing two of his friends to duty, one to death, getting married to prevent Hanguang Jun from a serious punishment, saving the last Wen from a miserable death, watching his Da-Ge's descent into madness, witnessing his last friend in the world's accidental murder in front of him to his Da-Ge, and plotting the downfall of the man responsible for almost all of it… The childish thoughts of being hopelessly in love with someone who had made it very clear they were never going to be interested had completely dispersed.
He's collected all the information, all the cover ups and filthy secrets, and has gone out of his way to tarnish his own reputation beyond repair. Huaisang has gathered every piece of his brother's dismembered corpse, every piece that had freed itself from an unmarked grave save one, hoarding them away in a series of qiankun pouches in his own bed chamber, awaiting for the return of their missing brethren. For years he has made himself a nuisance to Meng Yao for killing Da-Ge, plotting his downfall and maybe even his death.
Huaisang has no idea how he’s going to execute his final plans, though he knows what pieces must be presented, from informing Qin Su of her true relationship to her husband to revealing to Jiang Cheng the actual circumstances of how his beloved nephew ended up an orphan.
He just needs to make sure that he doesn’t lose sight of his goals with his husband’s new urge to lose his virginity to him, or his new sex drive or whatever it really is that Hanguang Jun is currently dealing with at the moment. It’ll pass once he shows Hanguang Jun how to enjoy the company of someone else that isn’t him.
~
When the day arrives, Wangji and Huaisang have dinner in Wangji’s chambers, Huaisang dressed in less opulent robes than typical, dressed closer to how he used to when they had originally dissolved their original betrothal.
Wangji is so anxious that he doesn’t even think he could eat, picking at his food in a way that he knows his uncle would've had a fit over, but he cannot bring himself to really give it much thought, not when another appetite is going to be satisfied tonight.
Should he say something? Does he look appealing enough? He didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask someone else what he should do or wear differently, instead going off of what he had learned from peeking through less than proper literature when he had been a prudish young lady during his year of learning alongside of the young masters of the other sects. He feels silly with his robes opened up more, almost sloppily done up, to appear more like he’s known courtesans to dress in those books. Huaisang hasn’t given him a single glance, hungry or salacious or otherwise, and it’s making him fidget in a way that he knows is most improper.
“Hanguang Jun, if you’re uncomfortable, there is no reason you must fulfil your request tonight or at all. You have full authority over your own body, and, as I said before, you do not owe me anything,” his husband says simply, still not even looking at him as he wipes his face.
Wangji feels his ears and face burn, he’s not sure if it’s from embarrassment or shame or from the misunderstanding, but he straightens his back, “I said I want this, Huaisang, I was unsure of how I should, ah… proceed.”
He looks at him, his husband finally looks at him, and Wangji is overcome with the urge to kiss him, grab him, do anything and everything he could possibly do to him, but he honestly had no idea where to start. Wangji kneels up, intending to lean over the table and do at least one of those things, but Huaisang brushes his robes off and moves to stand, “Alright then, let this one teach you the first step.”
The nerves spike, but he manages to stand as well, feeling like he might just vibrate out of his own skin. Wangji is so much taller than his husband, but that means nothing to him right now when he’s so worked up. He stoops, a hand reaching to cup his beloved’s face so he can finally close the distance, wanting the press of lips against his own in such a way that he felt like he might just drop dead if he waited another second and-
His lips meet a palm, hand catching nothing but empty air, Huaisang having easily swerved the affection with the grace of someone who was training for this their entire life, “Sorry, Hanguang Jun… This one does not enjoy kissing. Besides, this is about finding out what you enjoy sexually, starting from square one, other affections you will have to find out on your own time.”
“But what if I want to-”
“If you try to learn too many things at once, I fear that you will not learn them all properly, Hanguang Jun. Now, if you are still up for it…”
Wangji pouts for a moment, but then he strengthens his resolve and stands up straight again, “I am ready.”
“Well, Hanguang Jun, in that case, let’s make our way to the bed. You can remove some clothing if you wish, your robe or pants, whichever you prefer, though you need not entirely strip, we will not be doing anything that requires all of that,” Huaisang’s voice is smooth and calm, almost clinical in the way he’s talking about sex, like he’s not going to be an active participant, instead just merely a teacher.
“You’re not…?”
“No, Hanguang Jun, there is no reason for me to strip as well. Like I said, this is for you and we will only be focusing on you.”
Huaisang makes his way to the bed and stands there, as if waiting for him to do something and Wangji is overcome with the urge to make himself attractive. Do something, make Huaisang be consumed by his manly urges and just take him, be unable to control himself. That’s what the books all claimed men were like, weren’t they?
He steels his nerves and proceeds to remove his outer robes, allowing them to lay where they fall. Wangji isn’t sure what he should really do, but he’s seen in his novels where he has to make it slow, sensual, so that’s what he does as he peels off his other robes. He knows men love breasts, so his husband should be no different, if he’s not supposed to fully strip, he’ll show off his best assets, the ones that will make his husband’s eyes follow him, make Huaisang want to touch him even if he doesn’t want to kiss.
When he manages to show off the most skin he possibly could, he raises his head, just a bit, looking at Huaisang through his lashes, just to see that Huaisang isn’t even looking at him, instead he’s wrapped the long edges of his sleeves like he’s used bracers, so they would be out of the way. Wangji feels almost silly when Huaisang does finally turn to him, “Good, now you can get on the bed and I will show you where we will start.”
He finds himself crawling into the bed, ears burning hot. Huaisang pauses for a moment as Wangji lays out on his back, then he sits on the edge of the bed, “Roll on your side, back to me.”
“Huaisang-”
“I’ll lay behind you, so I can show you what to do.”
He does as he’s told, pulling his hair over his shoulder, embarrassed how Huaisang didn’t even seem to notice his chest. Was that a mistake?
There’s almost no hesitation. Huaisang is suddenly pressed up against his back, warm and soft, and an arm lounges over his midsection. Wangji’s breath catches in his lungs and his heart feels like it’s already going to pound out of his chest.
“Breathe. Relax. I’m just teaching you how to touch yourself to bring yourself to orgasm, that way you can have that experience,” Huaisang’s face isn’t pressed to the crook of his neck, it’s more like he’s propped up on an elbow behind him, but it still feels more sensual than it should. Or does it? He’s not even sure, he just-
His husband strokes his hand over Wangji’s lower belly, like he’s calming a spooked horse, and he instantly forgets how exactly to breathe. The fingers brush at the top of his pants and he feels butterflies burst at the touch. His eyes squeeze shut while they dip inside, gently combing through the thick hair at the top of his pubic mound. Wangji cannot find himself ever remembering a time he did that to himself, such a non sexual touch that is so almost obscenely intimate, especially in this context, that didn’t involve taking a bath.
“That’s right, breathe and think about how it feels. Tell me when you don’t like something so I can help you find out what you do like.”
Wangji gives him an aborted nod, eyes shut so tight that all he can see is red.
“This husband thanks you for your cooperation,” Huaisang hums. It’s not like he’s saying it in a sexy way, but Wangji feels a heat in his guts regardless.
His fingers continue their way down to the bottom of his mound, casually stroking until his lips part, then he curls them right there at the opening, the pads just carefully feeling over the, what Wangji is now realizing is, a slightly damp patch of hair. His ears feel like they will catch fire, but Huaisang says nothing about it, instead trailing his fingers back up towards the top of the split with a single finger.
It’s slightly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything, mostly because he doesn’t dislike it, at least not yet anyway. Besides, Huaisang is telling him softly, confidently, that this is the spot that he will mostly likely feel the most pleasure, “It’s like if you were to stroke a cock, just smaller and more delicate.”
He nods, imagining to himself if it were a cock. Not that he ever truly thought of having one for himself, because then it wouldn’t necessarily be his body as he knows it, but more so because the thought never actually ever occurred to him. However, if this was what it was like had he been born with a cock and were now rubbing it like this, he’s not quite sure that he would actually enjoy this particular sensation.
He doesn’t want Huaisang to stop touching him though. It took them over a month to even get to this point from when he had originally asked in the first place. Maybe the first time touching yourself wasn’t even supposed to feel good, he’s heard that the first time having sex wasn’t supposed to feel good after all, so there was no real reason why this should be much different, especially when Huaisang was introducing this to him as the first step towards having sex, right?
And, another thing-
“... Hanguang Jun, this isn’t working, is it?”
Huaisang pulls his fingers away, palm resting on Wangji’s mound instead.
He instantly opens his eyes, feeling his face start to color, “I-”
“Not all bodies are built the same,” Huaisang says simply, leaning a bit so he’s over Wangji more, “but you are tense and not in a good way.”
If the world could open up and swallow him whole, he thinks it would be a simpler death.
“Do you want me to stop…?”
“ No, ” Wangji can feel the shame eating his insides, but the hot palm over his sex keeps him grounded, and just the thought of that makes him mortified beyond words.
“I am not a mind-reader, Hanguang Jun. Do you want me to try another way? I had a partner once who couldn’t handle such direct stimulation to their bud.”
His ears burn, he doesn't want to hear about his husband having other partners, he knows that Huaisang has had them before they were married, enjoyed another person's touch, but not now. Not when he has a hand down Wangji's pants, rejected his kiss, was unfazed by his admittedly meager chest, and now in this instance that Wangji has failed in receiving pleasure in the way that Huaisang said should be the simplest way he could feel pleasure.
He takes a shallow breath, “Let's try it.”
Huaisang’s fingers adjust, slipping his middle and forefinger down to press around the outsides of his bud's hood, a hint of pressure at the bottom of the muscle, and there's a flicker of pleasure.
It starts slow and methodical, the motion similar to scratching an itch, though not using his nails, and Wangji feels a stronger twitch run up his spine. As it continues, Wangji’s breathing shudders and he squeezes his thighs together, not sure if he truly likes the feeling or if it's just new.
That thought seems to leave his head almost as soon as it enters, his legs squirming as Huaisang adds more pressure, mindlessly switching from the one technique to a sort of swirling motion where he digs his fingers into the muscle at random intervals. Wangji clenches down on nothing, panting as he closes his eyes once more.
“There we go, Hanguang Jun, that's something you like, isn't it?” Huaisang’s words are as smooth as silk, nearly praising him, but not quite, still having the real cadence of merely observing the actions.
Wangji whimpers, grinding his hips into the sensation, feeling a build up somewhere between his guts and groin that he cannot focus on. His thighs have moved and are crushing Huaisang’s hand, somehow not preventing those fingers from doing their work, his ankles are crossing and uncrossing.
His hips jerk back, pressing against his husband's flat crotch, before humping forward into the pleasure again, unable to think of anything but Huaisang’s practically uncaring ministrations.
“I can feel how close you are, you shouldn't hold back, Hanguang Jun.”
Wangji desperately grabs Huaisang's arm, nails biting his flesh, and chokes out an actual moan. His free hand is dug into his own hair, close to his scalp, needing to find something, anything, to hold onto. His feet are pointed, toes curled so tightly he just might get a cramp, but all of that abruptly comes to a stop.
He grunts out an objectively unattractive noise, so tense and half curled up as his bud pulses kind of rhythmically between Huaisang’s fingers.
There's no telling how long it goes on for, it feels like it’s forever, especially with his husband carefully continuing to rub him through the sensation.
Next thing he knows, his heart is racing and he's breathing hard, laying boneless on the bed. He wasn't even aware of Huaisang having abandoned him until his husband is sitting in front of him, scrubbing his own hand with a cloth.
His legs weigh a thousand times more than they did just moments before, anchoring him in place as Huaisang looks down at him.
“... Now you, A-Sang?”
Huaisang just barely hesitates, he caught the moment of surprise in his face, but it's gone so fast he doubts if it actually existed, “No, Hanguang Jun, this was for you.”
“I can still-,” Wangji glances down, just for the words to die in his throat. He's not even hard.
“Let's clean you up, then I'll head out.”
“... You're not staying?”
He doesn't make eye contact as he offers the warm cloth, “No, I will not. Good night, Hanguang Jun.”