wuding | yiling.

yiling.

( He had anticipated silence, nightmarish husking, a slaughter of dust and dreams. A vast, unending emptiness of possibility.

Instead, Yiling surprised him: in the wake of the war that toppled the Yiling Patriarch and his restitution thirteen years after, the village has thrived, a convenient settlement at crossed roads. The markets lack exotic produce or sophisticated offerings, but excel in popularity. Those who must eat will have their fill. The roads accept visitors, bandits still banished by the specter of the Patriarch that is said to still manifest against wrongdoers on his grounds. Yunmeng's commerce is, if not wholly restored, then tentatively rejuvenating.

They arrive on lukewarm morning, Yiling clinging to its suffocating humidity even at the turn of seasons. Begging leave of his retinue, the acting sect leader has entrusted Sizhui and Uncle Qiren to watch over the clan — and now only carries their wares, dragging Little Apple by a soft lead. The donkey trots obediently, sparing unconvinced glances each way as if to transmit that it is an animal debased by these surroundings and prefers a hey of higher quality.

They enter the village, well ahead of Wei Ying's distant cave settlement, on foot &dmash; to vocal offers of carrot, winter melon and... of course he buys a bundle of turnips, paying twice the local going rate, and still not half of what might be charged in Jinlintai. Appeased, the old lady that descended on him withdraws, patting her belly, then her thinning basket of goods, because, ah, what a day.

Lan Wangji, trailing after his husband, is still a little aghast and confused after his ambush. )

I believe they like me here. ( Certainly, they like his silver. )

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Yeah, we’ll have to use fresh robes tomorrow. These ones reek of the dead. [Which will just make things harder for them around town. If they’d stayed overnight in the cave — a bad idea to suggest — they would probably be sleeping in these robes. To think that had been their plan mere shi before.

He starts to loosen the sash around his waist, pausing when Lan Zhan moves to undress him. He’d rather have Lan Zhan take his robe off, so he leaves the belt-loosened ensemble to him.]

You like to spoil me. [He starts by loosening the simple knot that binds the two sides of his husband’s forehead ribbon, letting it fall across Lan Zhan’s shoulders.] You do such a good job of it, too.

[Next, he pulls the pin from Lan Zhan’s hair, then he removes the headdress after. It doesn’t take much effort to work the topknot out of Lan Zhan’s hair.]

I might be pretty, but you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met. [Factoring in seeing Lan Zhan smile so often has propelled him above even Lan Xichen in the looks department. He doesn’t make the rules.] Beautiful too, in a masculine sort of way.

( This is ever his favorite moment, when Wei Ying unbinds the signatures of Hanguang-Jun to gently reveal him. He leans into his lover's hands, sweetly cooperative as if a kitten, tipping his head into questing fingers whenever they peel away pressure from his temples. He breathes. Is Lan Wangji, separate and tolerable, a creature distant from the demands of his station.

Finally, he remembers to return the favor and resume his own unveiling of his husband's body, stripping away boots and belts and allowing the silks of Wei Ying's robes to dangle like forgotten skins. )

Partisan. You alone think so. ( And perhaps their Lan Liang, who has increasingly warmed to his father's expressions, now he has learned to thaw them through the start of smiles. )

You know who attracts glances on the road. ( And it is not Lan Wangji. )

Edited 2024-10-06 12:18 (UTC)

[He takes some time to just touch Lan Zhan’s face and hair before he moves southward to make fast work of the complicated knot of his husband’s belt. He’s done this so many times that it’s second nature to him.]

My opinion is the only one that matters. [He shows uncharacteristic patience as he undresses Lan Zhan layer by layer instead of pulling them off in batches. He’s not rushing to sleep with him which might be the main motivator on a normal evening. There’s something sweet about taking his time like this.

He moves how Lan Zhan needs him to strip off his robes. He’s only wearing a couple layers. It’s no wonder he felt cold outside that cave!] They’re only looking at me because they’re trying to decide if I’m a man or a woman.

[It doesn’t take long until he’s pushing the last of Lan Zhan’s layers off his shoulders. He takes a step closer and wraps his arms around his husband’s waist for an intimate hug.]

You are a man.

( He whispers it as his arms come around Wei Ying, entrapping him close and pulling him in, accepting his presence. There is no need to hasten, not with an evening of lethargy awaiting them. He only considers to accommodate his husband's natural chills, but even that can wait, while he nuzzles Wei Ying's cheek. )

A handsome, brilliant, just, whimsical man. My man.

( Belatedly claimed but rightfully earned, Lan Wangji's one and only. He noses at Wei Ying, careful not to discourage or overstimulate him, but wishing this much of their arrangement well known: Wei Ying is not inferior to him.

There is no question, despite the frequency of their jests over his spouse's potential breeding, that Lan Wangji has married a man and enjoys him for these merits. Perhaps if Wei Ying were different — resurrected as a woman — Lan Wangji might have prevailed to stifle his natural inclinations and opened himself to bedding his spouse, after trial and error. But it would have been an experiment in patience, and he knows far too well they were fortunate in how their situation played out. )

My husband.

[Being in Lan Zhan’s arms feels like coming home after a long night hunt. He feels safe, secure, well-loved, wanted. After what happened today, that last part is especially nice. He turns his head so he can nose at Lan Zhan’s throat, nestling closer until they’re pressed flush together.]

I’m all yours and you’re all mine, too. [He sprinkles a few kisses along the side of Lan Zhan’s neck. Nothing overly sensual, because Lan Zhan had requested earlier that they avoid rushing into bedding one another. It will come naturally later. For now, he just wants to share some simpler affections.] My man, my husband. [After sleeping with Lan Zhan so many times, it should feel more naturally calling him his man, but it’s the first time he’s spoken the words aloud. They feel foreign to his tongue, but the sentiment is just the same.

He tucks his chin on Lan Zhan’s shoulder again, squeezing him close for a few moments before relaxing. They can stand here like this all night just holding each other, but it would probably be more comfortable to sit in the tub. It’s metal this time, so it won’t break easily if they end up messing around.]

You still smell good. Not even the odor of resentment can spoil it. [He moves back just enough to look up at Lan Zhan’s face.] I couldn’t possibly love you anymore than I already do, but I feel that way every day and somehow manage to love you more deeply every time I look at you.

When did my beloved steal enough coin to silver his tongue?

( Slowly, between traded affections, they crawl their way toward the bathtub — for once, Wei Ying leading the advance with utter discipline, shaming Lan Wangji's tentative progression.

They land before the tub, and he remembers enough of himself not to shame his husband with the need to bring himself up. Arms rounding around Wei Ying's waist, he lifts him in a testimony of stubborn pride, as much as competence, finally descending his lover to sit on the rim and test the freshly poured, steaming water with a dainty foot. )

Pleasant? ( For all his attempts, Lan Wangji remains utterly incapable of judging temperatures, forever finding the waters too heated for his own skin. But Wei Ying is delicate in this, sensitive to the cold. )

[He laughs when Lan Zhan picks him up, kissing the top of his head as he reaches the zenith of the lift. He plants another kiss on his nose before dipping both feet into the water.] Perfect! [Meaning it’s warm enough to pinken the skin but not so warm it’s uncomfortable.]

Want to kiss some more? [He asks as he slips into the tub and finds his place against the inner wall with his legs folded against himself so Lan Zhan can get comfortable. It only makes sense for Lan Zhan to take his position first since Wei Wuxian will inevitably end up in his lap as he does most nights they have their bath.]

We can wait to do other stuff until later if you want. I just want to tell you how much I love you without using words.

[He holds his arms out like he’s waiting for Lan Zhan to climb in and embrace him immediately. Lan Zhan hadn’t been exaggerating how spoiled he is.]

You are never tempered when we kiss.

( He warns, but eases into the waters all the same, careful not to unbalance Wei Ying in his transition. The tub is blessedly copper this time, likely invulnerable to their transgressions, but it also offers little give by way of Lan Wangji assuming his seat in tight confines. Modern bathing arrangements are ill equipped to accommodate a scion of Gusu Lan, it would appear.

Huffing, he turns around, back to the bathtub and legs spread idly wide each side of the rim, to welcome the weight of his husband no matter how Wei Ying chooses to position himself. )

You will not be satisfied, then begrudge me. ( He has seen this same request play out dozens of time, and he only has himself to blame for his tendency to indulge Wei Ying in perpetuity. )

That’s because you’re such a good kisser. So really, it’s your fault we always end up needing more whenever we kiss.

[He grins and moves closer, careful not to pinch his husband’s skin between his knees and the bottom of the tub. He decides he wants to face his husband in case he decides ‘yes’ on more kissing, so he sits sideways across his thighs.]

You’re right, Lan Zhan. If you kiss me the way you usually do, I’ll be clay in your hands, but can you really blame me? I mean, look at you.

[He wraps his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and pulls himself close enough to kiss where his jaw meets his throat.] See Lan Zhan? I can be good. If I were trying to seduce you, I would have straddled your lap instead.

But, if we’re not going to kiss, will you still hold me tight? Just for a little while before we start to wash up.

You are good, so very good.

( But this is no mere kissing, he wishes to say, but settles instead to all but purr his approval when Wei Ying latches onto his neck, painfully assured of his victory. Of course Lan Wangji will not discourage or push him away; shamelessly, he melts into the affection, drawing Wei Ying farther in with an arm snaking at his husband's back.

Helpfully, the pleasantly heated waters are already playing their part to ease them, the tension of the day beginning to dissipate, as Lan Wangji's muscle sing away their sorrows. He had grossly underestimated the toll that exposure to so much resentment can take upon the flesh, burdening it down. His very bones feel drained of strength.

Drunk on Wei Ying's affection, he retaliates with soft kissing to the narrow stretch of his lover's fragile shoulders, the column of his throat. Gently, he bites in. )

Shall I worship you when we bed tonight? ( He has enough awareness, at least, to know their bedding is an inevitability neither of them is particularly opposed to. )

[He beams as brightly as the sun when Lan Zhan calls him good. It’s not a compliment he hears often and it’s nice to have his efforts recognized. Especially when he intends to behave himself, even though they both know he’s bad at actually following through when it comes to restraining himself when he wants something.

He giggles a little when Lan Zhan goes for his throat. It tickles pleasantly and he’s torn between protecting his throat and offering up more of it. He goes with the latter, tilting his head and pulling his hair out of the way in invitation.]

You’re already worshiping me. [And he revels in the beginnings of it, feeling desired and loved in the way only Lan Zhan can make him.] But you can do it more, later. I don’t mind.

[He holds onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder with one arm and touches Lan Zhan’s cheek with the other, guiding him to pull back.] If you keep going like that, kissing and biting me, then I’ll have a harder time being good for you. [He kisses Lan Zhan’s mouth, again, a third time, then he breaks the kiss and presses his nose to his husband’s throat instead.]

Edited 2024-10-06 23:16 (UTC)

( This is too much, too soon. Already, he feels the young stirrings of his interest, accelerated with the recent compulsion that all parents have to see their passions through in as short a time as possible and fit their needs in between the screams of their children.

Hungrily, he answers each of Wei Ying's kisses, before capitulating and drawing his head back over the rim of the bathtub, pointedly looking away from his husband's gaze and eyeing the downtrodden, cracked ceiling instead. He must cool himself, must tire out the start of his ardor. Must meditate, if need be.

Throughout, his hand limply strokes out Wei Ying's spine and shoulders, careful to retain connection with his husband. )

Let us speak of different matters. Anything. Anything my husband wishes. ( A pause. ) The dreams of his farm.

[He’s disappointed when Lan Zhan pulls away, but he reminds himself that they’re not trying to sleep with each other. Just to enjoy affections without moving it towards sex. That will happen later when they lay down for bed and he tells himself that he can wait for as long as he needs to. He’ll be good.

He settles again, resting his head on Lan Zhan’s chest and letting trickles of water fall from his raised palm. He plays with the water for a few moments, then plays with Lan Zhan’s hair.]

Dreams of my farm? [It takes him a little time to realize what Lan Zhan’s talking about.] Oh, the farm that we don’t have yet. I guess I spent a lot of time living that sort of life when I lived here so it just feels like something we can do together someday when you’re not leading a clan. [He lays his hand across his own stomach, patting a little rhythm there.]

This body isn’t made for spiritual endurance. I figure it might be something we can do if we get a chance to retire from cultivation. We could grow all sorts of things! Like potatoes and leafy greens for you. Maybe we could build a lotus pond, too. Little Apple could protect the goats and chickens while I toil the fields. I’d bring you the best of what we grow and go to the market to sell the excess. [He laughs a little bit, then shakes his head.] It’s all just a silly dream. We’re not made for a quiet life.

( He listens, hands marauding to scry circles over his husband's belly and as he murmurs and thinks of everything Wei Ying whispers, everything their life could become. A farm, then. Would it be so impossible? )

My pretty wife will toil the field?

( Forgive him his amusement, his incredulity. The impossible light contentment at merely having the option to contemplate this prospect. Of course Mo Xuanyu's body is ill built for such toil, in its current form, but Wei Ying could always dedicate himself to bulking his flesh and becoming a beast of the grounds. )

Then head on to the market. ( He speaks so very dreamily, as if imagining each of Wei Ying's steps. ) Perhaps chatter with fishwives along the way. Receive orange peels from children. ( So often a likelier gift than the fruit whole, given the poverty of most villagers. )

Return to me with stories after. An idyllic life.

Sure, why not? It’ll give me something to do between tending to the children. [Then again, he didn’t help out too much with the farming. It had mostly been the Wen remnants who handled that sort of stuff.] You can help too, if you want. You’re good with animals. You could make sure the goats are milked and the eggs are collected.

[He touches Lan Zhan’s shoulder, pushing the wet hair clinging to it over the side so he can draw little designs on his husband’s chest with his fingers.]

Do you think it sounds nice? [It works out in the idealized version in his mind’s eye, but real life is never so easy. They’ll probably rely on their children or the servants to tend to the fields other than when the mood takes him. It’s something he never remembers to factor in.]

It’ll give me a way to provide for our family. When I’m not working out in the field, I’ll teach our kids about cultivation. We could take day trips to Caiyi to shop or Cloud Recesses to visit their uncle and great uncle.

...I would like it so.

( He whispers, and he finds himself wistfully yearning for a life where this might be their day-to-day. When it might, in truth, satisfy them. Of course they cannot hope to be so easily contented, two cultivators accustomed to the thrills of a battlefield life. Still.

With a prolonged exhalation, he dips his head back to crown over Wei Ying's, kissing the top of his temples, then — at a stilted angle — his cheekbones. This will never be his peaceful existence, but it may be his relationship with his husband, still. )

Time beside you. Our children could have that.

( A pretty, blessed life. Maddeningly, impossibly tame. More than Lan Wangji may ever have hoped to earn in a hundred lifetimes, after a thousand feats of virtue. )

But you would bore, readily.

Yeah, I like it too.

[He likes the thought of it, anyway. Of spending his days with his family, knowing they’re safe in his care. Of the normal hustle and bustle of going to the markets to verbally spar with anyone who comes to purchase their goods. He could tinker, too. Make charms for all sorts of things and sell his inventions in the same breath.

But Lan Zhan’s right. It would be a boring existence compared to the lives he’s lived so far.]

Sometimes boring’s not so bad. [He smiles to himself, remembering all the times he’s called Lan Zhan boring. He kisses his husband’s shoulder for good measure.] But I’m easy to satisfy. As long as I have you and the kids, that’s what matters the most.

[He looks at Lan Zhan thoughtfully.] If you could do anything with your life once we retire from politics, what would you want to do? It can be as silly or as serious as you want it to be, but you can’t just say whatever I want is fine.

Whatever Wei Ying wants is fine.

( He murmurs it with amusement, but keeps his interest all the same robustly affixed on Wei Ying's face, to prevent any misunderstandings that his moment of humour shields indifference to his husband's request. In truth, he must consider it — must balance his desires, stripped away from Wei Ying's. At times, they are too readily combined.

He hesitates, then, drawing water up between cupped hands and shed it on Wei Ying's back, in warning that his hair will likely follow — )

To roam. To help. I feel — ...a restlessness. ( How strange, to think of fussy Lan Wangji as the less anchored creature. )

At times, I cannot breathe for it.

[He laughs and splashes water towards Lan Zhan’s chest and face, but he manages to splash himself too because they’re sitting so close together.] But what if I want to do what you want? We’ll just go in circles and do nothing.

[He gets what Lan Zhan’s doing and he bends to the side, holding onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder as support to wet his hair for him.]

We could be wandering cultivation partners like we were when we were first wedded. As long as the kids are grown up first, that sounds good, too. [He doesn’t think anything will happen to leave their kids as orphans, but it’s always a possibility in cultivation. He mostly thinks they’ll make it difficult to go on night hunts. Either they’d leave them in someone else’s care or they’ll have a hard time protecting them.]

I like your version of our future, Lan Zhan. There are a lot of people out there who don’t have the backing of large sects to do their night hunting for them.

[He kisses his husband’s cheek, then nudges his nose against his neck.] Your destiny isn’t in politics. This is just temporary. We’ll be out cultivating for the little people before you know it.

Perhaps.

( But he offers it agreeably, nodding to slip his mouth over Wei Ying's cheek as his husband turns, their noses colliding. Sweet trickles of friction, no more than teasing. He sighs along. )

You would wish a quieter life. One of settling. It is right that you enjoy it.

( That Wei Ying, who has been given so little to call plainly his own and so few causes for celebration, should at least be awarded this much solace. Is this not part of matrimony, also? To compromise?

Thirteen years dead, Wei Ying has earned at least thirteen years of concessions and indulgence. )

I shall not mind.

A quiet life, huh?

[It strikes him to realize that a quiet life is something he’s seeking. Wei Wuxian, who is known to laugh in the face of danger, wants to plant himself in one place where he feels safe and sound. In Gusu of all places! No one outside the ones who know him best would believe it.

He grins when their noses touch, leaning forward to steal a quick, chaste kiss.]

If we settle down too soon, I’ll be bored and you’ll be restless. [Like they are when they’re back home.] I want to walk with you and cultivate for orange peels, but I want a home where we can return to when we want to rest, too.

We’ll have to wait until A-Liang’s old enough to take care of himself when we’re away before we can be wandering cultivators. It’s not like it would be safe on the road for him unless we bring the nursemaid with us. [Which would be decidedly unromantic, but he isn’t completely opposed to the idea.]

Edited 2024-10-09 23:00 (UTC)

Loquat peels.

( He corrects, but drags Wei Ying closer, readily satisfied when his husband retaliates and their noses collide sweetly. He feels tempted — and enacts his impulse — to bite his lover's nose, a monster well and true.

After, pulling only lightly away to loom dangerously: )

Your parents prevailed to raise you on the road. ( Surely, it would not be such a hardship for a young Liang. Perhaps easier on a babe than a proper child, distressed for the lack of structure. But then, even he appears to reconsider: )

Liang, and our other children. A simple wait, once Wei Ying achieves immortality. ( For he will, assuredly. )

[He pulls back when Lan Zhan nips his nose, crinkling it up as his eyes start to water. It doesn’t hurt much, but that area’s sensitive!] Lan Zhan! [His voice is a whine, but he’s still smiling.]

A-Yuan spent a lot of time in the Burial Mounds, too. Maybe I’m not giving them credit for their resilience. [He doesn’t want to put his kids in harm’s way before they’re learned enough to face the darkness at their side. Trying to cultivate with a toddler in one arm would put him at a disadvantage, but there’s nothing around that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be able to face with minimal back up. He’d spent years cultivating on his own, hadn’t he?]

Until I can figure out a way to reach immortality without mixing in some demonic cultivation, you mean. [He refuses to make himself immortal if he can’t do the same for Lan Zhan. Maybe he’ll change his mind in a couple decades — unless he succeeds in his endeavors. For now, he just can’t imagine living a full life without Lan Zhan in it.] I’ll keep working on it until I can figure it out.

[He nudges his way to kissing the side of Lan Zhan’s mouth.] I already miss A-Liang. Don’t get me wrong, I like having you all to myself, but this is the longest time he hasn’t had either of us.

Wei Yiiiiiing.

( He whines back in a rare, studied pretension. It's seldom that he allows himself these whims, but he has earned the opportunity, careful to nudge at Wei Ying's cheek and direct him to face the brunt of the bathtub, as Lan Wangji finally commences bathing him. First, the little bowl of water, filled. Then, he begins to pour it across the top of Wei Ying's pretty head, the serpentine stretch of his tresses. Again and again and again.

Perhaps they're equal in this: Wei Ying loathes sharing his vulnerability, for fear of inconveniencing. Lan Wangji, too, is never at ease when he laughs. Only together do they dare show their true colours. )

He is a stronger child than you anticipate. ( For all it's never spoken of, toddlers possess their own inner strength, an admirable flexibility and endurance. )

In truth, you will pine for him longer than he yearns for us. ( The ingratitude of children, the gutting woe of a parent. )

[He closes his eyes and stills when Lan Zhan starts to wash him. He’s at ease with this, having grown spoiled for having Lan Zhan do the majority of the work on his hygiene. It feels good being taken care of in the little ways like this even if he tends to shy away from the bigger issues that weigh on him. Slowly, he’s starting to open up to the idea of sharing those things but it doesn’t come naturally to him.]

Yeah, I know. I want to keep him safe from all of life’s harms, but that doesn’t help him. He’ll have scraped knees and broken bones before too long. Hopefully he doesn’t take after me too much or he’ll be getting himself into dangerous situations every day.

[It’s probably because of how he was as a kid that he worries over his own kids so much. Unlike Lan Zhan, this is his first time being an actual father, so it’s only natural that he’s more prone to worry.]

I’ve seen it with Sizhui. He’s a good kid, but I can tell when he thinks we’re being overbearing. You did such a good job with him, Lan Zhan. He’s confident, kind, empathetic, and he won’t back down if we disagree with him when he thinks it’s important. [Like with his relationship with Jin Ling.]

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