[ Though Wei Ying claims that the journey will take a day or longer with Lan Zhan's measured pace, the truth is that he is rushing to see him again. Despite his relatively hurried steps, walking the road alone nevertheless gives him time to reflect on what it is he is hurrying towards. It feels like they've danced around each other for such a long time: Wei Ying teasing and Lan Zhan attempting to understand his strange ways of communicating, of behaving. One minute, he brings up flattery, and the next he claims that Lan Zhan was greedy for it. He is playful—childish, to some—and it makes it all the more difficult for someone like Lan Zhan to parse his true meaning or how he genuinely feels.
Wei Ying isn't a child, yet Lan Zhan wishes to protect him as though he is family. He is no longer a swordsman, yet his movements are as beautiful and graceful as ever. They aren't lovers, yet Lan Zhan has loved him for more years than Wei Ying has been in his life.
He feels like a coward for admitting these feelings through a message rather than directly to Wei Ying's face as he deserves, but Lan Zhan is still learning how to interpret and act upon his own feelings, let alone those of others. He hasn't had long to practice, but Wei Ying gives him plenty of opportunities, both in his first life and this second one. That is another motivation for Lan Zhan who doesn't want to waste the gift that is a second opportunity to be at Wei Ying's side.
So Lan Zhan hurries. Not when he is in sight of others, such as Sizhui who follows him to the border of Cloud Recesses to bid him farewell and, oddly, good luck. Lan Zhan had only mentioned that he is going to meet Wei Ying and not the purpose, yet his son had smiled sweetly while a mischievous spark danced in his eyes. Lan Zhan is convinced that he'd somehow obtained such an expression from his youth with Wei Ying.
When he is halfway, as Wei Ying had suggested, he stops to admire the scenery. It would be more beautiful with Wei Ying there, long black hair and robes blowing in the breeze, red fabrics starkly contrasting the vivid green around him. Sighing, wondering when it was that Wei Ying came to fully occupy Lan Zhan's thoughts, he waits to see whether perhaps their timing is fortuitous, or if he will once again need to chase after his fated one. ]
[ A day's travel, but Wei Wuxian bides time. There are flows and ebbs of watered truth that sate this world, fill it to brim. And the first wave: he is expected. No, desired. Worse, anticipated.
If this were a battlefield (is), a general wouldn't give the advantage of the hour too, once he's surrendered the lay of the land. Beishan, by compromise. Midway, midway, and Wei Wuxian more recent to have traversed it, but he knows how this plays out: Lan Zhan will arrive with such immensity of purpose that he will scorch the earth beneath him and between them. Stiflingly, overwhelmingly trained. Wei Wuxian has seen the look of death on him and knows, marrow-deep, this man was instructed on cord before chords, on sunken teeth in the neck of writhing prey.
He thinks, he did not fear before, doling out whimsy invitations. He should have, dread unfolding with the molten lethargy of silk regalia slipping the body. Come morning, he begins to savour it: loitering half the way for stories with a merchant's caravan for half his travel, trading flowers with a peasant's toddler, meaner than a-Yuan was, before he had the nerve, the audacity, the complete lack of filial piety to lose the moon swell of his cheeks and grow in Wei Wuxian's absence.
Beishan, the hill crest. He reaches the town by the midday hour, hears the inevitable news from a rush of minders straggling after the quickened step of dirt-poxed sheep. Knows, Lan Zhan is —
Discards the thought and barters a few hours more in the town-side, vividly wooed by people, learning all of two merry songs, and one bawdy, and the gossip of the leading Zhou family, and did he know (he never knew) they had a third daughter no man saw? And she was ugly? Truly ugly? And her mother, a famed beauty. Her sisters, sold in matrimony to a cultivator and a scholar. The shame. The scandal.
He wears the sheen of others' whispers and controversy like his gladness, lets both infuse him. Alive. A world, around him, alive sixteen years later. Suffering the likes of the Zhou's luck-shunned daughter.
By sundown, he's — readied. The muscle of his comfort exercised, the sickness of his rushed energy, drained. Half a day after the meeting hour, he meanders uphill, licks of sunset starting to warm his back, gasps of silence provoked after eerie, tender breezes. It will be a hard winter here, where poppies and cornflower spot the fields but lash the ankle, crueller than flowers have a right to be, bred to hold strong.
No greeting. No expectations. He sits, beside where Lan Zhan stands, knees dragged up and the curve of his spine mindful, ready to absorb his welcome despite transgression — like any spoiled house cat who's never done the mouse war for her dinner, and thrived all the same. ]
You scared the midday shepherds.
[ A pale, sudden ghost in fine silks, whispered on the hill-side. Ufffffff, Lan Zhan.
Dig deeper than the first bones, and, I knew. I knew, and I dallied, and you waited hours, but look, the view. The view. ]
The one he waits for is lucky that he is so practiced in waiting. As a boy, he'd waited for the time that he could spend with his mother in her silent, airy prison. As a teenager, he'd waited for Cloud Recesses to grow quite again every time visitors broke its peace. As a man, he'd waited for the chance, the pure miracle, that Wei Ying might return to the world. He wasn't foolish enough, at the time, to consider that he might come back to Lan Zhan. Wei Ying was too much like smoke, impossible to tame or catch though perhaps summoned with enough fire.
As always, that fickle nature keeps Lan Zhan waiting. He stands, a picture of patience, his back straighter than the trees around him and a loose fist resting on the small of his back. Bichen is his only companion through the heat of mid-day, icy in his hand where its familiar patterns press into the skin of his palm. He doesn't sway from his position, even when the shepherds stumble upon him and scurry away faster than their herd. To sit would mean dirtying his fine white robes, accumulate dust, and cause more annoyance for himself than it would to remain standing for a few hours.
The sunset is breath-taking, and though his eyes rest on the horizon, his attention is stolen by Wei Ying as soon as he is within range of Lan Zhan's senses. He says nothing, uncertain where to begin. No greeting. No scolding. Silence between them that is neither comfortable nor strained, as if they are familiar with the occurrence but both know that tonight is different from all others.
Wei Ying knew, because Wei Ying always finds ways of gleaning knowledge from even the most reluctant passerby. Lan Zhan is confident that he would have learned of his early arrival from the wind itself if Wei Ying put his mind to the task. But he does not mind waiting, and it has given him time to meditate one what, exactly, may transpire now that they are reunited.
Even the extra hours of meditation had not presented any answers to him. ]
One strayed from the road to eat wildflowers. [ He turns, slow and calculated, to glance at Wei Ying out of the corner of his eye. ] It seemed pleased to make the flock wait.
[ He says evenly, as if Lan Zhan and any of his sect brothers were given to the critical offence of staining teeth with meats, culling appetites on the death of animals.
A cruel fate. Well, you can only take the monster out of Yiling. The Burial Mound thrives and thrums beneath his skin, begs him wakeful. Here, now, would Wei Wuxian have forgiven delay? Lan Zhan would have rued the hour. But his luck is a fine, red string, and he must stretch it until it snaps.
He stains his eyes with the sight of Lan Zhan again, handsomely statuesque, what a poetic vision — he'd applaud it, but Wei Wuxian never did learn finery. He knows a Lan Zhan prettier than this, red-drowned, anger-mulled. Like wine, thickened. Peace suits cultivation, not the cultivator's heart.
The breeze tickles hair on his cheek, riles him enough that he takes a hand to unsaddle it. Tsk, what sabotage, would you look at that. Wei Wuxian's moment, routinely interrupted.
He waves a hand down beside him, hovered but never quite landing on Lan Zhan's feet. ]
Sit with me. I'm afraid of you. You're not helping.
[ By looming, he means. Every rabbit scuttles beneath the shadow of a giant. To think, years later, Lan Zhan never strove to learn. ]
[ He knows it to be a tease. Lan Zhan has bent many of the Lan principles for Wei Ying, even broken them, but those he can uphold without any ill effect on his... companion... he continues to do so. Luckily, Wei Ying is far more passionate about alcohol than he is meat, and even the addition of spice to his food when he visits Gusu isn't too difficult for Lan Zhan to cater to.
He shouldn't cater to Wei Ying's every whim, according to his uncle and plenty of other elders in their sect. Lan Zhan silently disagrees and continues to support Wei Ying to live the happiest, fullest life possible. Even if that means him leaving Lan Zhan behind in Cloud Recesses. Even if his vision of a peaceful existence is far from peaceful in Lan Zhan's eyes. Wei Ying is a warrior, despite how he laments the loss of Suibian. He battles expectations with every step he takes towards justice, and while sometimes that road has taken him through self-destructive territories, Wei Ying is nothing if not stubbornly optimistic. His words are his shield, music his weapon, and may the heavens pity anyone who stands in his way.
Reclined as he is on the ground, Lan Zhan is spared the embarrassment of reaching to brush the hair from his eyes simply because he isn't within reach. Such a fearsome man contained behind such a beautiful face, strength bottled in a slender frame. ]
You fear no man.
[ Least of all Lan Zhan, if his constant teasing means anything. If the way he pushes and prods, searching for attention and then leaving when it is awarded to him, is an indication of fear, then it is one that Lan Zhan neither understands nor accepts. Rabbits may scatter from an unfamiliar threat, but even a solemn, solitary bear may befriend them with time.
Not that Lan Zhan imagines himself a bear. ]
What help do you need, Wei Ying?
[ He asks as he crosses his legs beneath him and folds to the ground, shaking out his sleeves to either side so they flow over his knees. Seated, there's even less distance between him and Wei Ying, and he rests the hand closest to him with the palm raised. No word of reminder, but Wei Ying had requested to hold his hand, after all. ]
[ Of all the ways that Lan Zhan had imagined that Wei Ying might find out about his crush, a texting thread stemming from his naked photography wasn't one of them. As he hurries to put on proper clothes, he stares at the photograph in question that's leaning against the back wall of his closet—facing away, of course, so that he isn't met with the blush-inducing image of Wei Ying's dick every single time he opens the closet. He realizes that he'll need to confess that he was the mysterious buyer, and such a thought worries him. Will Wei Ying rethink his feelings for Lan Zhan if he finds out that he is the unsavory patron? Will he be offended that Lan Zhan saw it as an opportunity to simultaneously help him financially and maintain his purity, his honor?
These are questions that haunt him on the drive to Wei Ying's place. At the forefront of his mind is the very new and sudden realization that his feelings are not completely one-sided. Wei Ying's thoughts on the matter are still uncertain, but Lan Zhan couldn't continue the conversation through text messages, or even over the phone. Something of his magnitude, this importance, deserves to be handled in person. Wei Ying is worth that much, at the very least—at the most, a far more romantic confession. Lan Zhan may not look it, but he is a romantic deep down in his heart. Even without plans to admit his feelings any time in the near future, he'd always pictured it happening somewhere with beautiful scenery, or shared memories, or anything better than standing statue-still in front of Wei Ying's door, hesitant to knock because he still hasn't found the words.
Wei Ying will have words enough for the both of them, as always. He needs to be confident of that, just as he should have been confident that Wei Ying would see through him to the truth in his heart eventually. Their conversation has filled him with hope, yes, but as he knocks on the door, he can't help but feeling the nervous fluttering of wings in his stomach. ]
[ It takes forever for Lan Wangji to arrive. (It doesn't, really; it just feels like forever.) This is good, as it gives Wei Wuxian time to pick up the junk from his couch and clear the coffee table and make it look like he is a somewhat civilized, conscientious person capable of staying organized. Although it doesn't really matter because Lan Wangji has seen his apartment a number of times, knows what he's like, and — still likes him somehow?
It doesn't take long to clean and that's the dangerous part. It gives him an opportunity to think, fidgeting impatiently as he waits for Lan Wangji's quiet, firm knock against his door. He chews on the side of his thumbnail until it's ragged, paces the length of his tiny living room and kitchen, pulls out the kettle and the tea he keeps specifically for Lan Wangji, puts both of them back, contemplates changing out of the loose black shirt and sweats he's wearing, all while a thousand thoughts fly through his head. Thoughts about Lan Wangji, and that comment about being lonely and awkward, and about how they're going to talk.
Wei Wuxian has never been at a loss for words, but when he hears that knock, his throat goes dry and he wavers for a moment. But neither is he a coward, and this is Lan Wangji, who is too important and too kind to leave waiting, stewing in his own thoughts. So he clears his throat and yanks open the door — he hadn't been standing in front of it, except he totally had — and waves Lan Wangji inside. This is a discussion too meaningful to have at the door. ]
Lan Zhan. [ For a second he doesn't know what to say, where to even begin, and he starts off by remembering his manners for once. ] Come in. Can I get you something to drink? I still have some tea, it won't take long to boil water, or maybe just some water?
[ After the eternity it had taken for him to arrive, it feels like Wei Ying opens the door barely a second after he knocks. He's beautiful, as always, with a radiance that shines out of him whether he's wearing sweatpants with holes at the seams or a three-piece suit—not that Lan Zhan has ever seen him wearing one, but he does have some imagination despite what many think of him. It is an imagination that has done him a disservice, at times, when he has lost himself to thoughts of what could never be between him and Wei Ying.
Well, that's what he used to think, at least.
Nodding a silent greeting, he steps inside until there is space for Wei Ying to close the door behind him. It is a meaningful discussion indeed, and he's relieved to not be left standing on the threshold. That must be a good indicator, a sign that Wei Ying isn't hovering on the verge of asking Lan Zhan to leave. Despite the vein that the text messages had taken, he can't help but feel nervous, as if hoping for the best will invite the worst. ]
Wei Ying.
[ He stands, still and rigid, falling back on his manners now that he's been tossed into an unfamiliar sea. He's never had romantic feelings for anyone before meeting Wei Ying, and so he's never had to deal with confessing said feelings or navigating what may or may not happen as a result. It seems like Wei Ying is also in search of an anchor of familiarity if his offering of a beverage is anything to go off of. Important conversation aside, perhaps it's worth the time for them to find their footing before they begin. ]
Tea, please. [ He knows Wei Ying keeps his favorite leaves for when he visits, feels both guilty and spoiled because of it. Wei Ying always seems pleased to show off the lengths he has gone to for his friend, and Lan Zhan is so weak when it comes to indulging him. Still, it is an escape from the true reason he's here, but he's content to watch Wei Ying putter around the kitchen for a moment while Lan Zhan once again attempts to collect his own thoughts. ]
[ Lan Zhan's presence in his tiny, shabby apartment is always a blessing. Wei Wuxian feels like it amps up the elegance and possibly the property value of the entire neighborhood. Despite the contrast, he likes having his friend there. Well, he likes Lan Zhan anywhere, but especially in his apartment, where it's usually just the two of them and their conversations or even (rarely) peaceful silence, both a comfort, and a distraction.
But now, it's strained and awkward and he doesn't know what to say. So he busies his hands with making tea, pulling out the kettle and strainer and carefully measuring tea leaves, waiting for the water to hit the right temperature. He knows this routine well enough now that it doesn't need all of his focus but it's an excuse to keep his hands busy. But eventually, the tea is steeping, a timer set and Wei Wuxian has nothing else to look at but Lan Zhan. (Not that it's a hardship; Lan Zhan is seriously beautiful.) ]
I like you. [ He blurts it out, just lays it at Lan Zhan's feet, a confession and a promise and a blundering twist of his tongue. He follows it with a groan, dropping his head to the counter. ] I wanted to maybe tell you one day, find somewhere romantic and beautiful and confess if I ever got up the courage, and instead I just. Not quite tell you in a text message and blurt it out minutes after you walk in the door.
Hanguang-jun, I would never turn down time to travel alongside you or Wei-qianbei. Both of you at the same time, perhaps? Whichever! Experiencing the world on my own aside, I'd quite enjoy traveling leisurely with you, and there's no reason I can't have both at some point.
You and Wei-qianbei aside, I'd like to travel with Wen Ning more. Maybe a few of my friends sometime, but it might be difficult for Jin Ling with his new... responsibilities.
As I cherish time with him! We should all three travel together sometime, then. Do you know the next time he might come back to Gusu where we could sit and discuss it over dinner?
You're right, it would be, and I do always enjoy visiting. I'll write him before, to let him know I'm coming.
[ Though Wei Ying is always mouthy when they fall into bed together, there's something so different about it tonight. Lan Zhan can't reach out and silence him with a kiss or well-angled thrust and instead finds himself at the full mercy of Wei Ying's filthy words. It's incredible even if he struggles to not touch himself yet, not until Wei Ying asks to watch. ]
Perhaps a gag, then. [ He swallows thickly at the thought, unable to imagine a silent Wei Ying. ] Something that you wouldn't be eager to have in your mouth.
[ Lan Zhan watches with rapt attention, silently urging Wei Ying to fill himself further. Once the plug is fully seated inside of him, he lets out a steadying breath he hadn't known he was holding. ] Well done, Wei Ying. Of course I'm enjoying this, you're being so good for me. Do you want to get something bigger? I'll wait. You deserve it.
A gag? [ He pouts, although it's ineffective and disappears just as soon as he has the plug seated deep inside. ] Lan Zhan is so mean, threatening to gag me.
[ He stays there for a moment, ass still on display, working on catching his breath. He shakes his head and turns back to face his phone. ] No. Not yet. I'm just going to leave it inside for now. I want to see you.
Punishment is meant to be threatening. [ Still, the thought of Wei Ying being truly silent and looking up at him with pleading eyes is... actually arousing beyond imagination. Yet Lan Zhan also knows in his heart that he would break down and free Wei Ying upon the slightest indication that he wasn't enjoying it. It's a serious discussion to be had when they're not so aroused and able to think a little more clearly, considering the fact that they'll need to talk about boundaries and safewords.
Groaning when his view changes, he's nevertheless happy to see Wei Ying and his flushed face. Knowing that he is filled and waiting makes Lan Zhan wish he could rush to his side, but he also knows that patience tonight will pay off tomorrow. So he squeezes the base of his cock and gives it a slow, lazy stroke for Wei Ying to see. ] How shall I touch myself?
Would you like to punish me? [ He knows actual punishment isn't something to be enjoyed, but he thinks he'd like it if Lan Zhan did punish him, especially since Wei Ying is terrible at being quiet.
His eyes focus on Lan Zhan's long, elegant fingers, wrapped around the thick length of his cock, and he feels his mouth go dry. Licking over his lips, he has to shake his head, groaning. ] Slow, at first. Like I'm on my knees between your legs, taking you in my mouth, slowly at first. Teasing.
[ Though Lan Zhan is usually one to travel with more care than haste, the fact that Wei Ying has been waiting for him so long makes him hurry to put aside his work and rush to his side. There is also the pressing matter of his slacks that are too tight, cock straining beneath them. Exchanging messages with Wei Ying often leads to this kind of result, one that leaves them both feeling needy, but this evening holds further weight. They've broached a topic that Lan Zhan barely dared to imagine before, despite the rough nature of many shared nights. It feels good to have shared his thoughts, better still to know they've been accepted, and best that Wei Ying has his own possessive streak as well.
All of these thoughts are swirling in his mind as he knocks on Wei Ying's door, curious to see the state of both his apartment and dress. He wouldn't put it past Wei Ying to answer in the nude, but Lan Zhan would hardly be able to resist him if he did. ]
[The wait is agonizing, yet Wei Wuxian finds himself doing as he was told and.. somewhat picks up his apartment. There isn’t time to do a full clean, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on it right now anyways, but they won’t trip over any clothes on the way to the bedroom should they make it that far. He has never been more grateful for Jiang Cheng moving out.
The knock on his door is met with a wave of relief, that he will finally get what he wants most—Lan Zhan. Of course Wei Wuxian isn’t completely naked when he answers the door, as he is dressed in two ribbons and a grin, which is hopefully all Lan Wangji wanted him in.]
[ With all of the blood rushing south with record-breaking speed, it's a miracle that Lan Zhan doesn't faint in the hallway. As it is, he is struck dumb by the sight of Wei Ying opening the door naked—no, not entirely, but his adornments only seem to highlight the expanse of pale skin on display for Lan Zhan. Only for Lan Zhan. A growl bubbles up in his throat as he rushes through the door and scoops Wei Ying up into his arms, kicking the door closed with too little care and too much force. He pins Wei Ying to the nearest wall and kisses him fiercely, biting at his lower lip. ]
[Fuck the door, who needs doors? It's incredibly hot the way Lan Zhan surges to him, picks him up and kisses him against the wall. Dizzying, even. It's all Wei Wuxian can do to whimper into Lan Zhan's mouth as his erection rubs against Lan Zhan's stomach, the sudden friction almost too much.]
Wasn't seen though, you were right there to make sure. [He's teasing of course, trying to be as tempting as possible as he rocks his hips the best he can and moans wanton into their kisses.]
for ~desultorily
[ Though Wei Ying claims that the journey will take a day or longer with Lan Zhan's measured pace, the truth is that he is rushing to see him again. Despite his relatively hurried steps, walking the road alone nevertheless gives him time to reflect on what it is he is hurrying towards. It feels like they've danced around each other for such a long time: Wei Ying teasing and Lan Zhan attempting to understand his strange ways of communicating, of behaving. One minute, he brings up flattery, and the next he claims that Lan Zhan was greedy for it. He is playful—childish, to some—and it makes it all the more difficult for someone like Lan Zhan to parse his true meaning or how he genuinely feels.
Wei Ying isn't a child, yet Lan Zhan wishes to protect him as though he is family. He is no longer a swordsman, yet his movements are as beautiful and graceful as ever. They aren't lovers, yet Lan Zhan has loved him for more years than Wei Ying has been in his life.
He feels like a coward for admitting these feelings through a message rather than directly to Wei Ying's face as he deserves, but Lan Zhan is still learning how to interpret and act upon his own feelings, let alone those of others. He hasn't had long to practice, but Wei Ying gives him plenty of opportunities, both in his first life and this second one. That is another motivation for Lan Zhan who doesn't want to waste the gift that is a second opportunity to be at Wei Ying's side.
So Lan Zhan hurries. Not when he is in sight of others, such as Sizhui who follows him to the border of Cloud Recesses to bid him farewell and, oddly, good luck. Lan Zhan had only mentioned that he is going to meet Wei Ying and not the purpose, yet his son had smiled sweetly while a mischievous spark danced in his eyes. Lan Zhan is convinced that he'd somehow obtained such an expression from his youth with Wei Ying.
When he is halfway, as Wei Ying had suggested, he stops to admire the scenery. It would be more beautiful with Wei Ying there, long black hair and robes blowing in the breeze, red fabrics starkly contrasting the vivid green around him. Sighing, wondering when it was that Wei Ying came to fully occupy Lan Zhan's thoughts, he waits to see whether perhaps their timing is fortuitous, or if he will once again need to chase after his fated one. ]
no subject
If this were a battlefield (is), a general wouldn't give the advantage of the hour too, once he's surrendered the lay of the land. Beishan, by compromise. Midway, midway, and Wei Wuxian more recent to have traversed it, but he knows how this plays out: Lan Zhan will arrive with such immensity of purpose that he will scorch the earth beneath him and between them. Stiflingly, overwhelmingly trained. Wei Wuxian has seen the look of death on him and knows, marrow-deep, this man was instructed on cord before chords, on sunken teeth in the neck of writhing prey.
He thinks, he did not fear before, doling out whimsy invitations. He should have, dread unfolding with the molten lethargy of silk regalia slipping the body. Come morning, he begins to savour it: loitering half the way for stories with a merchant's caravan for half his travel, trading flowers with a peasant's toddler, meaner than a-Yuan was, before he had the nerve, the audacity, the complete lack of filial piety to lose the moon swell of his cheeks and grow in Wei Wuxian's absence.
Beishan, the hill crest. He reaches the town by the midday hour, hears the inevitable news from a rush of minders straggling after the quickened step of dirt-poxed sheep. Knows, Lan Zhan is —
Discards the thought and barters a few hours more in the town-side, vividly wooed by people, learning all of two merry songs, and one bawdy, and the gossip of the leading Zhou family, and did he know (he never knew) they had a third daughter no man saw? And she was ugly? Truly ugly? And her mother, a famed beauty. Her sisters, sold in matrimony to a cultivator and a scholar. The shame. The scandal.
He wears the sheen of others' whispers and controversy like his gladness, lets both infuse him. Alive. A world, around him, alive sixteen years later. Suffering the likes of the Zhou's luck-shunned daughter.
By sundown, he's — readied. The muscle of his comfort exercised, the sickness of his rushed energy, drained. Half a day after the meeting hour, he meanders uphill, licks of sunset starting to warm his back, gasps of silence provoked after eerie, tender breezes. It will be a hard winter here, where poppies and cornflower spot the fields but lash the ankle, crueller than flowers have a right to be, bred to hold strong.
No greeting. No expectations. He sits, beside where Lan Zhan stands, knees dragged up and the curve of his spine mindful, ready to absorb his welcome despite transgression — like any spoiled house cat who's never done the mouse war for her dinner, and thrived all the same. ]
You scared the midday shepherds.
[ A pale, sudden ghost in fine silks, whispered on the hill-side. Ufffffff, Lan Zhan.
Dig deeper than the first bones, and, I knew. I knew, and I dallied, and you waited hours, but look, the view. The view. ]
no subject
The one he waits for is lucky that he is so practiced in waiting. As a boy, he'd waited for the time that he could spend with his mother in her silent, airy prison. As a teenager, he'd waited for Cloud Recesses to grow quite again every time visitors broke its peace. As a man, he'd waited for the chance, the pure miracle, that Wei Ying might return to the world. He wasn't foolish enough, at the time, to consider that he might come back to Lan Zhan. Wei Ying was too much like smoke, impossible to tame or catch though perhaps summoned with enough fire.
As always, that fickle nature keeps Lan Zhan waiting. He stands, a picture of patience, his back straighter than the trees around him and a loose fist resting on the small of his back. Bichen is his only companion through the heat of mid-day, icy in his hand where its familiar patterns press into the skin of his palm. He doesn't sway from his position, even when the shepherds stumble upon him and scurry away faster than their herd. To sit would mean dirtying his fine white robes, accumulate dust, and cause more annoyance for himself than it would to remain standing for a few hours.
The sunset is breath-taking, and though his eyes rest on the horizon, his attention is stolen by Wei Ying as soon as he is within range of Lan Zhan's senses. He says nothing, uncertain where to begin. No greeting. No scolding. Silence between them that is neither comfortable nor strained, as if they are familiar with the occurrence but both know that tonight is different from all others.
Wei Ying knew, because Wei Ying always finds ways of gleaning knowledge from even the most reluctant passerby. Lan Zhan is confident that he would have learned of his early arrival from the wind itself if Wei Ying put his mind to the task. But he does not mind waiting, and it has given him time to meditate one what, exactly, may transpire now that they are reunited.
Even the extra hours of meditation had not presented any answers to him. ]
One strayed from the road to eat wildflowers. [ He turns, slow and calculated, to glance at Wei Ying out of the corner of his eye. ] It seemed pleased to make the flock wait.
no subject
[ He says evenly, as if Lan Zhan and any of his sect brothers were given to the critical offence of staining teeth with meats, culling appetites on the death of animals.
A cruel fate. Well, you can only take the monster out of Yiling. The Burial Mound thrives and thrums beneath his skin, begs him wakeful. Here, now, would Wei Wuxian have forgiven delay? Lan Zhan would have rued the hour. But his luck is a fine, red string, and he must stretch it until it snaps.
He stains his eyes with the sight of Lan Zhan again, handsomely statuesque, what a poetic vision — he'd applaud it, but Wei Wuxian never did learn finery. He knows a Lan Zhan prettier than this, red-drowned, anger-mulled. Like wine, thickened. Peace suits cultivation, not the cultivator's heart.
The breeze tickles hair on his cheek, riles him enough that he takes a hand to unsaddle it. Tsk, what sabotage, would you look at that. Wei Wuxian's moment, routinely interrupted.
He waves a hand down beside him, hovered but never quite landing on Lan Zhan's feet. ]
Sit with me. I'm afraid of you. You're not helping.
[ By looming, he means. Every rabbit scuttles beneath the shadow of a giant. To think, years later, Lan Zhan never strove to learn. ]
no subject
He shouldn't cater to Wei Ying's every whim, according to his uncle and plenty of other elders in their sect. Lan Zhan silently disagrees and continues to support Wei Ying to live the happiest, fullest life possible. Even if that means him leaving Lan Zhan behind in Cloud Recesses. Even if his vision of a peaceful existence is far from peaceful in Lan Zhan's eyes. Wei Ying is a warrior, despite how he laments the loss of Suibian. He battles expectations with every step he takes towards justice, and while sometimes that road has taken him through self-destructive territories, Wei Ying is nothing if not stubbornly optimistic. His words are his shield, music his weapon, and may the heavens pity anyone who stands in his way.
Reclined as he is on the ground, Lan Zhan is spared the embarrassment of reaching to brush the hair from his eyes simply because he isn't within reach. Such a fearsome man contained behind such a beautiful face, strength bottled in a slender frame. ]
You fear no man.
[ Least of all Lan Zhan, if his constant teasing means anything. If the way he pushes and prods, searching for attention and then leaving when it is awarded to him, is an indication of fear, then it is one that Lan Zhan neither understands nor accepts. Rabbits may scatter from an unfamiliar threat, but even a solemn, solitary bear may befriend them with time.
Not that Lan Zhan imagines himself a bear. ]
What help do you need, Wei Ying?
[ He asks as he crosses his legs beneath him and folds to the ground, shaking out his sleeves to either side so they flow over his knees. Seated, there's even less distance between him and Wei Ying, and he rests the hand closest to him with the palm raised. No word of reminder, but Wei Ying had requested to hold his hand, after all. ]
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losing my shit laughing at Lan head ornaments being torture devices
my work here is done
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for ~demonicpath
[ Of all the ways that Lan Zhan had imagined that Wei Ying might find out about his crush, a texting thread stemming from his naked photography wasn't one of them. As he hurries to put on proper clothes, he stares at the photograph in question that's leaning against the back wall of his closet—facing away, of course, so that he isn't met with the blush-inducing image of Wei Ying's dick every single time he opens the closet. He realizes that he'll need to confess that he was the mysterious buyer, and such a thought worries him. Will Wei Ying rethink his feelings for Lan Zhan if he finds out that he is the unsavory patron? Will he be offended that Lan Zhan saw it as an opportunity to simultaneously help him financially and maintain his purity, his honor?
These are questions that haunt him on the drive to Wei Ying's place. At the forefront of his mind is the very new and sudden realization that his feelings are not completely one-sided. Wei Ying's thoughts on the matter are still uncertain, but Lan Zhan couldn't continue the conversation through text messages, or even over the phone. Something of his magnitude, this importance, deserves to be handled in person. Wei Ying is worth that much, at the very least—at the most, a far more romantic confession. Lan Zhan may not look it, but he is a romantic deep down in his heart. Even without plans to admit his feelings any time in the near future, he'd always pictured it happening somewhere with beautiful scenery, or shared memories, or anything better than standing statue-still in front of Wei Ying's door, hesitant to knock because he still hasn't found the words.
Wei Ying will have words enough for the both of them, as always. He needs to be confident of that, just as he should have been confident that Wei Ying would see through him to the truth in his heart eventually. Their conversation has filled him with hope, yes, but as he knocks on the door, he can't help but feeling the nervous fluttering of wings in his stomach. ]
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It doesn't take long to clean and that's the dangerous part. It gives him an opportunity to think, fidgeting impatiently as he waits for Lan Wangji's quiet, firm knock against his door. He chews on the side of his thumbnail until it's ragged, paces the length of his tiny living room and kitchen, pulls out the kettle and the tea he keeps specifically for Lan Wangji, puts both of them back, contemplates changing out of the loose black shirt and sweats he's wearing, all while a thousand thoughts fly through his head. Thoughts about Lan Wangji, and that comment about being lonely and awkward, and about how they're going to talk.
Wei Wuxian has never been at a loss for words, but when he hears that knock, his throat goes dry and he wavers for a moment. But neither is he a coward, and this is Lan Wangji, who is too important and too kind to leave waiting, stewing in his own thoughts. So he clears his throat and yanks open the door — he hadn't been standing in front of it, except he totally had — and waves Lan Wangji inside. This is a discussion too meaningful to have at the door. ]
Lan Zhan. [ For a second he doesn't know what to say, where to even begin, and he starts off by remembering his manners for once. ] Come in. Can I get you something to drink? I still have some tea, it won't take long to boil water, or maybe just some water?
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Well, that's what he used to think, at least.
Nodding a silent greeting, he steps inside until there is space for Wei Ying to close the door behind him. It is a meaningful discussion indeed, and he's relieved to not be left standing on the threshold. That must be a good indicator, a sign that Wei Ying isn't hovering on the verge of asking Lan Zhan to leave. Despite the vein that the text messages had taken, he can't help but feel nervous, as if hoping for the best will invite the worst. ]
Wei Ying.
[ He stands, still and rigid, falling back on his manners now that he's been tossed into an unfamiliar sea. He's never had romantic feelings for anyone before meeting Wei Ying, and so he's never had to deal with confessing said feelings or navigating what may or may not happen as a result. It seems like Wei Ying is also in search of an anchor of familiarity if his offering of a beverage is anything to go off of. Important conversation aside, perhaps it's worth the time for them to find their footing before they begin. ]
Tea, please. [ He knows Wei Ying keeps his favorite leaves for when he visits, feels both guilty and spoiled because of it. Wei Ying always seems pleased to show off the lengths he has gone to for his friend, and Lan Zhan is so weak when it comes to indulging him. Still, it is an escape from the true reason he's here, but he's content to watch Wei Ying putter around the kitchen for a moment while Lan Zhan once again attempts to collect his own thoughts. ]
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But now, it's strained and awkward and he doesn't know what to say. So he busies his hands with making tea, pulling out the kettle and strainer and carefully measuring tea leaves, waiting for the water to hit the right temperature. He knows this routine well enough now that it doesn't need all of his focus but it's an excuse to keep his hands busy. But eventually, the tea is steeping, a timer set and Wei Wuxian has nothing else to look at but Lan Zhan. (Not that it's a hardship; Lan Zhan is seriously beautiful.) ]
I like you. [ He blurts it out, just lays it at Lan Zhan's feet, a confession and a promise and a blundering twist of his tongue. He follows it with a groan, dropping his head to the counter. ] I wanted to maybe tell you one day, find somewhere romantic and beautiful and confess if I ever got up the courage, and instead I just. Not quite tell you in a text message and blurt it out minutes after you walk in the door.
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for ~deferences
My heart says I or Wei Wuxian, though that may cause difficulty if you wish for a genuine experience of the world on your own.
You should invite who you wish to spend the most time with.
this is so good.... i'm cry
You and Wei-qianbei aside, I'd like to travel with Wen Ning more. Maybe a few of my friends sometime, but it might be difficult for Jin Ling with his new... responsibilities.
I love this little family ;;
Travel to Jin Ling even if he cannot travel with you. Seeing a friend would be a reprieve.
as do i!! weeps more (also: sorry for the brief wait!)
You're right, it would be, and I do always enjoy visiting. I'll write him before, to let him know I'm coming.
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for ~demonicpath
[ Though Wei Ying is always mouthy when they fall into bed together, there's something so different about it tonight. Lan Zhan can't reach out and silence him with a kiss or well-angled thrust and instead finds himself at the full mercy of Wei Ying's filthy words. It's incredible even if he struggles to not touch himself yet, not until Wei Ying asks to watch. ]
Perhaps a gag, then. [ He swallows thickly at the thought, unable to imagine a silent Wei Ying. ] Something that you wouldn't be eager to have in your mouth.
[ Lan Zhan watches with rapt attention, silently urging Wei Ying to fill himself further. Once the plug is fully seated inside of him, he lets out a steadying breath he hadn't known he was holding. ] Well done, Wei Ying. Of course I'm enjoying this, you're being so good for me. Do you want to get something bigger? I'll wait. You deserve it.
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[ He stays there for a moment, ass still on display, working on catching his breath. He shakes his head and turns back to face his phone. ] No. Not yet. I'm just going to leave it inside for now. I want to see you.
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Groaning when his view changes, he's nevertheless happy to see Wei Ying and his flushed face. Knowing that he is filled and waiting makes Lan Zhan wish he could rush to his side, but he also knows that patience tonight will pay off tomorrow. So he squeezes the base of his cock and gives it a slow, lazy stroke for Wei Ying to see. ] How shall I touch myself?
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His eyes focus on Lan Zhan's long, elegant fingers, wrapped around the thick length of his cock, and he feels his mouth go dry. Licking over his lips, he has to shake his head, groaning. ] Slow, at first. Like I'm on my knees between your legs, taking you in my mouth, slowly at first. Teasing.
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for ~weixianme
[ Though Lan Zhan is usually one to travel with more care than haste, the fact that Wei Ying has been waiting for him so long makes him hurry to put aside his work and rush to his side. There is also the pressing matter of his slacks that are too tight, cock straining beneath them. Exchanging messages with Wei Ying often leads to this kind of result, one that leaves them both feeling needy, but this evening holds further weight. They've broached a topic that Lan Zhan barely dared to imagine before, despite the rough nature of many shared nights. It feels good to have shared his thoughts, better still to know they've been accepted, and best that Wei Ying has his own possessive streak as well.
All of these thoughts are swirling in his mind as he knocks on Wei Ying's door, curious to see the state of both his apartment and dress. He wouldn't put it past Wei Ying to answer in the nude, but Lan Zhan would hardly be able to resist him if he did. ]
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The knock on his door is met with a wave of relief, that he will finally get what he wants most—Lan Zhan. Of course Wei Wuxian isn’t completely naked when he answers the door, as he is dressed in two ribbons and a grin, which is hopefully all Lan Wangji wanted him in.]
Lan Zhan, finally!
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Shameless! Wei Ying, what if someone saw?
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Wasn't seen though, you were right there to make sure. [He's teasing of course, trying to be as tempting as possible as he rocks his hips the best he can and moans wanton into their kisses.]
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for ~lanhuan
Both?
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A direct conversation would be much more fruitful, without a middle man. Or my fingers may get clumsy.
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You are never clumsy.
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And yet, I have accidentally taken a screenshot of your opinion on the matter of his ears.
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