[He pats Lan Zhan’s knee a couple times and gives them both a little space. Something they haven’t needed during the long Gusu winter that seems reluctant to give up its icy grasp even through the first parts of spring. He might just be acclimated to his new climate, because the heat seems to be more annoying than he remembers this time of year feeling.
He stretches both arms above his head and flops back onto the mattress with a sigh.]
Lan Zhan, I’m tired but I want to try out that new idea I had for the cooling talisman. What do you think? Should I take… maybe an incense time or two to work? It’s a matter of sleep. If we go straight to bed, we can sleep longer but if I work for a little while, we have a chance to sleep better. You’re good at being the voice of reason, so what do you think?
[He kicks his feet idly and tugs on Lan Zhan’s sleeve. The more he stays horizontal, the more he’s going to have a hard time getting out of bed. If it’ll make Lan Zhan and Lan Liang more comfortable and let him sleep tangled up in his husband’s arms, it would be worth it.]
( The voice of reason, sorely tempted to coax his husband in his arms despite heat and humidity for another tumble, purely because, on his latest sprawl, Wei Ying showed an indecency of ankle. Ah, but Lan Wangji too is a beast.
He arms himself with moderation, nudging Wei Ying with a light knock of their elbows after his sleeve is tugged, before obediently starting to withdraw beneath their sheets. Another complication — further layering. This... will be unpleasant business throughout his visit. )
The cooling talisman, now. ( Let it never be said Hanguang-Jun is incapable of selfishness. ) Else you will don a widow's whites imminently.
[He half-rolls to the side to let Lan Zhan lift up more of the sheet. He’s already leaning towards staying up to work because he’s unlikely to be able to fall asleep when he feels inspired. It’s just better to spend the time working than laying around restlessly.]
And then I’ll die from heartbreak and Sizhui and Jin Ling would have to adopt Lan Liang.
[He sits up and climbs out of bed to leave Lan Zhan with the image of his nightmare future. He’ll work all night if he has to in order to keep it from coming to fruition. He knows Lan Zhan won’t really die so easily, but he knows his husband must be severely uncomfortable to request him to stay up instead of coming to bed. Or maybe he’s only worried about Lan Liang? Either way, his family needs him and he likes the feeling.]
Let’s see… I don’t know why I didn’t think about this before. But if pushing cold outward doesn’t work, I might be able to pull heat inward instead. I’ll be specific about how much heat so it doesn’t get too cold, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
( There is an element of pride, of chest-filling affection that overwhelms him whenever he watches Wei Ying at his work, holding nothing back. He is magnificent in his industry, the finest mind of his generation, a wizard of talismans. And maybe Lan Wangji's partisanship is entirely too saccharine, but he will abide no correction on this point.
Wei Ying withdraws to attend to his duty, and Lan Wangji spreads out in the bed, obediently casting the single sheet over him and intent to tolerate whatever indignity the heat throws at him — until the reassurance of Wei Ying's murmurs confirms it will be only a short inconvenience. )
My wife is brilliant. ( And softer, siren-like: ) If he completes his work, shall I wake him in my mouth or speared on me?
( After all, they are already in a land of wine and spices. The only rewards that Lan Wangji can offer are the satisfaction of Wei Ying's body. )
[Once his supplies are laid out, he starts sketching on regular stationary to draw out iterations of what he’s thinking. He strikes out the first two and leaves the third as is. It’s a relatively simple idea that uses the same concept he’d used when devising the spirit attraction flags. That’s only the first and easiest step. He also needs to regulate the strength of the attraction.
He hears Lan Zhan behind him and can’t help but grin at the proposal. He doesn’t like waking up early and he naturally sleeps in even if he does get to sleep early. But the exception is when Lan Zhan wakes him to sleep together first thing in the morning.]
Surprise me! If Lan Zhan wakes up feeling amorous, he should take me! If not, his mouth will probably lead to him taking me afterwards anyway.
[He ponders for a few moments, scribbling on his parchment again while he works out the strength of the effect. It’s not typical to limit the strength of talismans so this is where creativity meets science.]
( A well humored truth, this once honeyed. He has never failed to covet his husband's body, barring when Wei Ying was too exhausted to bear him, or their quarrels too fresh and tinted by anger to entertain. These circumstances, few and far between, pale before the unnatural hunger with which he has always welcomed Wei Ying in his arms.
Still, he must pretend himself composed, decent. His ardor manageable and readily controlled. He betrays himself neatly with the rise of a brow, the careful telltale announcement of skepticism. )
You have been wanted longer than you knew what it meant to desire a man.
( If there is one between them who has lacked in transparency in this, it has not been Lan Wangji alone. )
[He smiles at Lan Zhan’s words, briefly wondering if Lan Zhan’s steady sleeping schedule is the only reason he hadn’t seen or felt his husband’s ardor come every morning. His husband is truly insatiable, yet Wei Wuxian is the one that benefits from multiple orgasms more than half the time they sleep together while Lan Zhan rarely has more than one.]
So that’s why you want me to observe earlier sleeping hours. You’d be able to wake me with pleasure every morning. [He scratches out his current design and starts over again.] Would Lan Zhan insist on two baths per day even after going back home? I don’t know if I can take it twice a day! I wouldn’t be able to sit down.
[He feels the heat rising up his neck and cheeks at that last part. He knows he’s loved and wanted now and he realizes he must have been wanted when they were younger too, but he hasn’t thought so deeply about it. If he’d known how desired he was back then, would he have walked the same path? Probably, he would have just invited Lan Zhan to the Burial Mounds more than the one time they’d spent the day in Yiling together with A-Yuan.]
I have a lot of wanting to catch up to, don’t I? You’ll always have me beat, but I won’t make it easy for you!
( He finds, for once, as Wei Ying's cheeks ripen and the flush claims him, that it is Lan Wangji who grows emboldened now, watching his husband hawkishly for further signs of his embarrassment. No, too seldom are these tables turned in ways that favor Lan Wangji. He cannot allow his rare advantage to elude him.
Instead, carefully measured, in a voice at once honeyed and thickly and rusted, he schools himself to ignore his own discomfort and embrace instead shrewdness: )
If propriety and Wei Ying's health permitted, I would take him every other hour. On my lap behind courtesy curtains during envoy visits. Over a learning bench after disciple classes. Against the river bank as we bathe. Under the table during the evening meal. Abed again, then with morning.
( Of course, such a strict regimen of constant hedonism risks exhausting Wei Ying past measure — and bleeding his body of stamina. ) Two would be inevitable.
[That tone of voice combined with those spring scenarios are having more than just an effect on his cheeks. Of course, Lan Zhan wouldn’t know that by looking at him. Though, it makes it a bit harder to concentrate on his work when he’s letting Lan Zhan’s sensual sweet talk get to him.]
And you’d take me in the bath, too! I’d never get any rest. My poor hole will weep and Hanguang-Jun will keep going, anyway!
[As much as he protests, he loves the idea of spending a day just lazing around and sleeping together all day long. There’s no way they could do that without repercussions… unless…]
After we have the clan wedding, we’ll be able to have a real seclusion, wouldn’t we?
[He realizes he’s barely working and that he’s made an error in his last attempt. He starts to wad the nearly-full sheet he’d been using, then stops and stares at it for a moment with his head cocked to one side. Maybe his subconscious works best when he’s barely paying attention because it reminds him that he can make this adjustable instead of static.
He bends down and grabs a blank talisman paper and he draws the appropriate symbols for his new design.]
Lan Zhan! You’re a genius. You knew exactly how to steer me the right way. I think this should work. It’s messy, but I can clean it up later. Want to see if it works?
( He is about to confirm to Wei Ying that yes, assuredly, they will enjoy each other's bodies at length throughout seclusion, they will have one another wholly and indiscriminately, a true vacation —
Only for his lover to be inevitably distracted by the fruit of his own brilliance, a mind at constant and riotous work. If only Lan Wangji could begrudge him this, he would. Doesn't, and only sidles closer, careful to nudge Wei Ying until their arms brush, and Wangji can peer over his husband's work attentively. The least he can do, if Wei Ying requests his scrutiny, is to deliver it, even if he remains the weaker talisman caster of the two.
With a soft nod, he walks his fingertips over the parchment, imbuing it with trickles of qi that light up the calligraphy, threatening to overpower the sorcery — before suddenly there is a sound as if a deep exhalation, and limpid chills spill out, radiantly. A small, short stream, but there.
He finds himself leaning in, absorbing it, eyes shuttering close with a pleased murmur. )
[He doesn’t pull away even when Lan Zhan comes up behind him. They’re close enough that their body heat is shared uncomfortably so, but he tolerates it because he likes being close. And if the talisman works correctly, they’ll be feeling much better in a short moment anyway.
He grins when Lan Zhan imbues it with a small amount of qi and it actually works. He feels a swell of pride and pats Lan Zhan’s wrist.] People are going to scramble to copy these! [Like they’ve done with several of his other inventions without crediting him for them.
He grabs another talisman paper and writes out the appropriate symbols with a slight adjustment to increase the range and effectivity to cover their bedroom.] If this one gets too cold, I’ll rely on you to keep my feet warm.
[He hands Lan Zhan the second iteration and grins expectantly at him. He’s personally low on qi after working all evening, but he could spare enough to activate the talismans himself. He doesn’t have to, though, since Lan Zhan is more than willing to volunteer to do it.]
I should work under pressure more often. Not that I felt like you were pressuring me or anything, I just wanted to get back to bed and cuddle up to you.
( He murmurs on instinct, because the pale of the active talisman's breeze doesn't yet spread out so decisively that it can dismiss all of Lan Wangji's discomfort. It's doing part of the work, and he watches the second sliver of parchment before him with incredulity that only wavers after he's alighted it with qi — and it begins to breathe out an even more industrious volume of chilled air, heavily ventilated.
He feels his skin alive again, his nerves awakening. The tips of his ears carefully flushed, reanimated as he no longer melts in the name of conjugal peace and diplomacy with Yunmeng. He supposes, after a moment at the intersection of two of the cooling talismans that he might be hogging the chill — and only spares Wei Ying an unsympathetic glance, before sliding him a fresh piece of parchment. )
One for Liang. ( As for Wei Ying, apparently Hanguang-Jun's wife can suffer eternally. )
[He elbows Lan Zhan in the side, nudging at him when he activates the second talisman.] You’ll still deny your wife sleeping in your arms? [Whether Lan Zhan invites him or not, he’ll still move close and cuddle with him when they lay down to rest. Lan Zhan would have to be miserable to deny him then.
He plucks the sheet out of Lan Zhan’s hand and scribbles out the appropriate characters and embellishments for Lan Liang’s side room. He holds it out for Lan Zhan to take.]
You’re sure you’re not going to keep that one, too? Maybe we can create the bitter cold of Gusu winters if I keep going.
[He’s too amused at his husband’s rare show of selfishness to take offense at being forgotten. He’ll be plenty cool enough just by being in the same room as Lan Zhan and his talismans.]
You can go give this to our son and I’m going to get back into bed. You won’t keep me waiting long, right? I can’t promise I won’t be asleep before you come back.
( Half observation, half commandment, because he knows as they both know that Wei Ying will never renounce the opportunity to barnacle, to connect, to thrive in his husband's arms. But he can pretend, politely accepting the weight of Lan Wangji descended to envelop him from behind, coiling inward and basking.
Just now, Lan Wangji accepts his duty, rising to stand and make himself wholly presentable, the lines of his robes righted so that he may greet his child in decorum in the next room. There, a tepid welcome: Liang blinks fleetingly awake, curls and uncurls his fists and coos once, before flattening down to resume sleep. He does not appear, unlike Lan Wangji, either flushed or urgently uncomfortable, but he seems to ease and unwind further when the activated talisman is rested by his cradle to face him.
Not so close that the breeze might irritate, nor so far away that he will be ignorant of its improvements. Lan Wangji lingers a few moments longer, ostensibly to ensure the talisman is situated correctly, if far more to simply absorb the pretty sight before him: his youngest son, peaceful in ways Lan Wangji and Wei Ying were not allowed to live long.
He pulls away finally, returning to his shared quarter to sit down abed beside Wei Ying, spreading his hand over the covers without intruding on his husband. )
Your son is grateful. ( Wordlessly, in the way of tyrants. )
[He leans back against his husband, getting more out of the momentary contact before Lan Zhan goes to deliver his gift of comfort. As soon as he’s let go, he goes to fetch a pot of water for both of them to quench their thirst. He drinks a couple cups and sets it down on top of their chest of possessions.
After, he does what he said he would and gets into bed. He considers bringing out a blanket, but decides he’ll be warm enough snuggled close to his husband and won’t need the additional heat.
He proves Lan Zhan correct by watching him as he returns to the main bedroom. He’s already in the center of the bed, ready to twine their limbs together as soon as Lan Zhan comes close enough. Even he feels the relief the cooling talismans bring into the room and he’d grown up with the humid Lotus Pier heat. Maybe it’s the body or maybe he’s just acclimated so thoroughly to the relatively mild springs of Cloud Recesses.]
Is he? It’s not too cold for him? [No, Lan Liang will be fine. The temperature with the talisman is still warmer than winter nights in Cloud Recesses, but he’s only a mother and worries as one. He stifles a big yawn with the sheet, then pats the mattress next to him.] I’ll convince you to sleep in with me tomorrow. [Or Lan Zhan will wake him with sex and he’ll be the one changing his sleeping schedule.]
( Bidden, he comes like a well-nourished, self-indulgent cat to crawl beside his master and curl around him, coiled strong. Earlier, he had derided the very possibility of seeking out physical affection in the heat; now, the quiet susurration of the cooling talisman has made a fool of him.
His arms round over and beneath Wei Ying's body, bringing him close beneath silken covers so loose and thin, they may as well be gossamer. Then, in the dark of the night he summons after hushing their candles shuttered, he murmurs: )
There is no morning call.
( Spoken in something akin to wonder, in awe of the sheer profligacy of such a gesture. Impossible to think of such lax discipline in Cloud Recesses, where every hour of the day is scrupulously triaged and diligently assigned. And still, Lotus Pier somehow functions without subjecting its disciples to perpetual martial drills. )
What do men do with themselves here every morning?
[He claims his husband’s side of the bed as half his own, rolling close until he can press his face against Lan Zhan’s chest. He breathes him in, full and deep into his lungs, and lets himself relax. His bed has been empty for too long and he’s going to make sure Lan Zhan can’t disappear.]
Most people just wake up when the sun rises and the roosters crow. The academic classes are in the mornings and the physical training is in the afternoons for disciples. There’s plenty of time outside of that where we could do other things like play games or catch fish. [Or get themselves into trouble.]
But you asked about the men. I guess that depends on what their professions are. By late morning, everyone’s working or studying.
[He rests his head on Lan Zhan’s arm, looking at him despite not being able to see him well in the dark. He can imagine his face, though. Smiling, he touches Lan Zhan’s face with his fingertips.]
Not everyone sleeps the same hours I do. A lot of the evening and night merchants do. It’s not unusual to find street vendors selling food well past the start of Lan sleeping hours.
( He murmurs and tips his head into Wei Ying's searching hand, offering out his cheek for touch and his entire person for companionship his lover has never denied him, except at the worst of his descent to the dead. Some part of Lan Wangji always fears the return of that man, husked and made raw, under the stresses of necromancy. He is wise — they are both wise — to forget him now.
Coming together, he curls up with Wei Ying, only disturbing his husband's peace to drag him over Lan Wangji's body, the perfect and unassuming blanket. His mouth chases Wei Ying's temple, warm. )
To think a Patriarch so vicious emerged from softness and play. ( The rumor mill will never be able to reconcile with this. )
[He follows the gentle coaxing and drapes himself over Lan Zhan, their legs left to fight over placement until they’re both comfortable and content with the position. He lifts his head to kiss Lan Zhan, using his fingers to guide their faces close together. He keeps the kiss relatively chaste, only lingering a little while longer than he means to.
Lotus Pier is a land of decadence and leisure compared to the meticulous scheduling of Cloud Recesses. This is where he’d grown up and thrived before the war started and where he’d missed desperately when he was in the Burial Mounds. He still misses it some, but it’s a dull ache compared to the raw nostalgia in his first life. He just isn’t built to follow thousands of rules, though he does try! Still, he wouldn’t move back to Lotus Pier on a permanent basis. His life is with Gusu Lan now and he’s happy there with Lan Zhan and the kids.
He snorts a little laugh and buries his face against the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck.] Imagine if I’d grown up in the Unclean Realms. I would have been brutal. Instead, I just gave the Wen Remnants a place to till the land and harvest radishes.
( A Wei Ying of the Unclean Realm would have been a brawn-led, vicious thing, impossibly brutal, prone perhaps to relishing the sulking and whining of his friends and subjects in that way of utter enthusiasm that all of clan Qinghe Nie possess. A good-hearted, honest man, still prone to play, but more prideful, more leathered.
Not Lan Wangji's love, then. Not the man who clings to him now as if a coverlet, a second skin. Wei Ying's vulnerability is his weapon. Even now, for all he's seemingly fragile spread across Lan Wangji, he dominates their encounter.
And Lan Wangji, impossibly fond, voice cracking with good humor, can't help but conceding to him in whatever way he needs done. )
[He nudges Lan Zhan’s throat with his nose, then he shakes his head as he starts to speak.]
I did. After what happened with Jin Zixuan, I did. [He doesn’t bother calling him a peacock for this. Even to him, that would feel too tacky.] And then again at the Nightless City where… you know, when I lost my shijie, I regretted it.
[He turns his head a bit and kisses Lan Zhan’s shoulder blade before he lifts his head and looks down at Lan Zhan. His vision is accustomed to the darkness now, but he still can only see a vague outline of Lan Zhan’s face.]
I don’t regret it now. It brought us together, no matter how hard it was to go through, I’d do it again because I wouldn’t want to live in a world where we’re not together.
( Jin Zixuan. Jiang Yanli. A host of other, inevitable sacrifices. Wei Ying's hands might not glisten with blood, but he has laid claim to his share of it, and Lan Wangji, shivering under his lover's mouth, can never wash away his pain.
Even now, humbled by Wei Ying's affection, he only nods and sighs and welcomes him with open arms, unable to offer him better salvation. )
Nor I. ( A pause, fleeting. Then, with inevitability: ) But a life with your sister might have been kinder.
( For all Jiang Yanli would probably have steered her brother away from his hurts, his vengeance, his outbursts — and the death and rebirth that ultimately reunited him with Lan Wangji. But would that have been such a wretched fate for Wei Ying? He suffered too much too swiftly.
Although he basks in some comeuppance now, he will never forget the cost at which that reward came. )
Kinder, maybe. Lonelier, too. She would have moved to Carp Tower eventually. And I didn’t have a great opinion about love before you. I can’t imagine why that would have changed.
[He shakes his head again, his hair falling across Lan Zhan’s shoulder as he leans over him. If he could go back in time to change anything, he would have never gone to Jinlintai to see his sister before he confronted the rest of the clans. It had always been a suicide mission even before he lost her and with her loss, the last of his control.
He doesn’t want to think too much about this right before bed. It tends to invite the nightmares.]
It wouldn’t just mean losing my future with you. We would have never known Sizhui or Liang.
[He leans down and touches the tip of his nose to Lan Zhan’s.] I don’t regret it. [He presses his lips to Lan Zhan’s, but he keeps it short, pulling back but still within Lan Zhan’s range in case he wants more.] If I had to do it all over again, I’d endure it so I could get back to you.
( His beautiful love, his only soulmate. Their noses shift and battle and collide, and he breathes in the scent of his husband's beauty, body undulating only to swallow the light movements of Wei Ying settling above.
Their kiss barely ends his spasms, itself too abrupt for Lan Wangji's appetites but likely the balm they need after heated lovemaking. Years on, he has come to trust Wei Ying with their bodies, to no longer over-direct and take command. Wei Ying too has learned to pace them.
They mirror each other, balance out, fill each other completely. )
I regret no part of this, but Father's passing and your sorrow. ( And softened: ) I am too selfish to not do as I did before, in a second life.
[He smiles while he listens, kissing Lan Zhan’s cheek and jaw just because he hasn’t satisfied his own desire for affection. He aches for his husband’s losses like he aches for his own, but what’s done is done. They’ve lived with regrets for too long already and although he does regret a few things still, he feels lighter for having talked about it.]
I love you, Lan Zhan. I know I say it all the time, so you’re used to hearing it by now, but I really do love you.
[He lays his head down on Lan Zhan’s shoulder again, nosing at his neck. He’s physically exhausted, but his mind is alert. It’s tempting to seduce Lan Zhan for some more lovemaking, but he can behave himself. Lan Zhan’s been traveling for days and it’s well past Lan sleeping hours, so he holds back.]
I’m happy. We went through a lot but we found each other in the end. Let’s give our kids the lives we should have been given. No more regrets.
[No more wars. No more losses. Just a peaceful life filled with joys and stability.]
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no subject
He stretches both arms above his head and flops back onto the mattress with a sigh.]
Lan Zhan, I’m tired but I want to try out that new idea I had for the cooling talisman. What do you think? Should I take… maybe an incense time or two to work? It’s a matter of sleep. If we go straight to bed, we can sleep longer but if I work for a little while, we have a chance to sleep better. You’re good at being the voice of reason, so what do you think?
[He kicks his feet idly and tugs on Lan Zhan’s sleeve. The more he stays horizontal, the more he’s going to have a hard time getting out of bed. If it’ll make Lan Zhan and Lan Liang more comfortable and let him sleep tangled up in his husband’s arms, it would be worth it.]
no subject
He arms himself with moderation, nudging Wei Ying with a light knock of their elbows after his sleeve is tugged, before obediently starting to withdraw beneath their sheets. Another complication — further layering. This... will be unpleasant business throughout his visit. )
The cooling talisman, now. ( Let it never be said Hanguang-Jun is incapable of selfishness. ) Else you will don a widow's whites imminently.
( And then chastity will truly be inescapable. )
no subject
And then I’ll die from heartbreak and Sizhui and Jin Ling would have to adopt Lan Liang.
[He sits up and climbs out of bed to leave Lan Zhan with the image of his nightmare future. He’ll work all night if he has to in order to keep it from coming to fruition. He knows Lan Zhan won’t really die so easily, but he knows his husband must be severely uncomfortable to request him to stay up instead of coming to bed. Or maybe he’s only worried about Lan Liang? Either way, his family needs him and he likes the feeling.]
Let’s see… I don’t know why I didn’t think about this before. But if pushing cold outward doesn’t work, I might be able to pull heat inward instead. I’ll be specific about how much heat so it doesn’t get too cold, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
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Wei Ying withdraws to attend to his duty, and Lan Wangji spreads out in the bed, obediently casting the single sheet over him and intent to tolerate whatever indignity the heat throws at him — until the reassurance of Wei Ying's murmurs confirms it will be only a short inconvenience. )
My wife is brilliant. ( And softer, siren-like: ) If he completes his work, shall I wake him in my mouth or speared on me?
( After all, they are already in a land of wine and spices. The only rewards that Lan Wangji can offer are the satisfaction of Wei Ying's body. )
no subject
He hears Lan Zhan behind him and can’t help but grin at the proposal. He doesn’t like waking up early and he naturally sleeps in even if he does get to sleep early. But the exception is when Lan Zhan wakes him to sleep together first thing in the morning.]
Surprise me! If Lan Zhan wakes up feeling amorous, he should take me! If not, his mouth will probably lead to him taking me afterwards anyway.
[He ponders for a few moments, scribbling on his parchment again while he works out the strength of the effect. It’s not typical to limit the strength of talismans so this is where creativity meets science.]
no subject
( A well humored truth, this once honeyed. He has never failed to covet his husband's body, barring when Wei Ying was too exhausted to bear him, or their quarrels too fresh and tinted by anger to entertain. These circumstances, few and far between, pale before the unnatural hunger with which he has always welcomed Wei Ying in his arms.
Still, he must pretend himself composed, decent. His ardor manageable and readily controlled. He betrays himself neatly with the rise of a brow, the careful telltale announcement of skepticism. )
You have been wanted longer than you knew what it meant to desire a man.
( If there is one between them who has lacked in transparency in this, it has not been Lan Wangji alone. )
no subject
So that’s why you want me to observe earlier sleeping hours. You’d be able to wake me with pleasure every morning. [He scratches out his current design and starts over again.] Would Lan Zhan insist on two baths per day even after going back home? I don’t know if I can take it twice a day! I wouldn’t be able to sit down.
[He feels the heat rising up his neck and cheeks at that last part. He knows he’s loved and wanted now and he realizes he must have been wanted when they were younger too, but he hasn’t thought so deeply about it. If he’d known how desired he was back then, would he have walked the same path? Probably, he would have just invited Lan Zhan to the Burial Mounds more than the one time they’d spent the day in Yiling together with A-Yuan.]
I have a lot of wanting to catch up to, don’t I? You’ll always have me beat, but I won’t make it easy for you!
no subject
Instead, carefully measured, in a voice at once honeyed and thickly and rusted, he schools himself to ignore his own discomfort and embrace instead shrewdness: )
If propriety and Wei Ying's health permitted, I would take him every other hour. On my lap behind courtesy curtains during envoy visits. Over a learning bench after disciple classes. Against the river bank as we bathe. Under the table during the evening meal. Abed again, then with morning.
( Of course, such a strict regimen of constant hedonism risks exhausting Wei Ying past measure — and bleeding his body of stamina. ) Two would be inevitable.
no subject
And you’d take me in the bath, too! I’d never get any rest. My poor hole will weep and Hanguang-Jun will keep going, anyway!
[As much as he protests, he loves the idea of spending a day just lazing around and sleeping together all day long. There’s no way they could do that without repercussions… unless…]
After we have the clan wedding, we’ll be able to have a real seclusion, wouldn’t we?
[He realizes he’s barely working and that he’s made an error in his last attempt. He starts to wad the nearly-full sheet he’d been using, then stops and stares at it for a moment with his head cocked to one side. Maybe his subconscious works best when he’s barely paying attention because it reminds him that he can make this adjustable instead of static.
He bends down and grabs a blank talisman paper and he draws the appropriate symbols for his new design.]
Lan Zhan! You’re a genius. You knew exactly how to steer me the right way. I think this should work. It’s messy, but I can clean it up later. Want to see if it works?
no subject
Only for his lover to be inevitably distracted by the fruit of his own brilliance, a mind at constant and riotous work. If only Lan Wangji could begrudge him this, he would. Doesn't, and only sidles closer, careful to nudge Wei Ying until their arms brush, and Wangji can peer over his husband's work attentively. The least he can do, if Wei Ying requests his scrutiny, is to deliver it, even if he remains the weaker talisman caster of the two.
With a soft nod, he walks his fingertips over the parchment, imbuing it with trickles of qi that light up the calligraphy, threatening to overpower the sorcery — before suddenly there is a sound as if a deep exhalation, and limpid chills spill out, radiantly. A small, short stream, but there.
He finds himself leaning in, absorbing it, eyes shuttering close with a pleased murmur. )
...not messy. ( In fact, heavenly. )
no subject
He grins when Lan Zhan imbues it with a small amount of qi and it actually works. He feels a swell of pride and pats Lan Zhan’s wrist.] People are going to scramble to copy these! [Like they’ve done with several of his other inventions without crediting him for them.
He grabs another talisman paper and writes out the appropriate symbols with a slight adjustment to increase the range and effectivity to cover their bedroom.] If this one gets too cold, I’ll rely on you to keep my feet warm.
[He hands Lan Zhan the second iteration and grins expectantly at him. He’s personally low on qi after working all evening, but he could spare enough to activate the talismans himself. He doesn’t have to, though, since Lan Zhan is more than willing to volunteer to do it.]
I should work under pressure more often. Not that I felt like you were pressuring me or anything, I just wanted to get back to bed and cuddle up to you.
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( He murmurs on instinct, because the pale of the active talisman's breeze doesn't yet spread out so decisively that it can dismiss all of Lan Wangji's discomfort. It's doing part of the work, and he watches the second sliver of parchment before him with incredulity that only wavers after he's alighted it with qi — and it begins to breathe out an even more industrious volume of chilled air, heavily ventilated.
He feels his skin alive again, his nerves awakening. The tips of his ears carefully flushed, reanimated as he no longer melts in the name of conjugal peace and diplomacy with Yunmeng. He supposes, after a moment at the intersection of two of the cooling talismans that he might be hogging the chill — and only spares Wei Ying an unsympathetic glance, before sliding him a fresh piece of parchment. )
One for Liang. ( As for Wei Ying, apparently Hanguang-Jun's wife can suffer eternally. )
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He plucks the sheet out of Lan Zhan’s hand and scribbles out the appropriate characters and embellishments for Lan Liang’s side room. He holds it out for Lan Zhan to take.]
You’re sure you’re not going to keep that one, too? Maybe we can create the bitter cold of Gusu winters if I keep going.
[He’s too amused at his husband’s rare show of selfishness to take offense at being forgotten. He’ll be plenty cool enough just by being in the same room as Lan Zhan and his talismans.]
You can go give this to our son and I’m going to get back into bed. You won’t keep me waiting long, right? I can’t promise I won’t be asleep before you come back.
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( Half observation, half commandment, because he knows as they both know that Wei Ying will never renounce the opportunity to barnacle, to connect, to thrive in his husband's arms. But he can pretend, politely accepting the weight of Lan Wangji descended to envelop him from behind, coiling inward and basking.
Just now, Lan Wangji accepts his duty, rising to stand and make himself wholly presentable, the lines of his robes righted so that he may greet his child in decorum in the next room. There, a tepid welcome: Liang blinks fleetingly awake, curls and uncurls his fists and coos once, before flattening down to resume sleep. He does not appear, unlike Lan Wangji, either flushed or urgently uncomfortable, but he seems to ease and unwind further when the activated talisman is rested by his cradle to face him.
Not so close that the breeze might irritate, nor so far away that he will be ignorant of its improvements. Lan Wangji lingers a few moments longer, ostensibly to ensure the talisman is situated correctly, if far more to simply absorb the pretty sight before him: his youngest son, peaceful in ways Lan Wangji and Wei Ying were not allowed to live long.
He pulls away finally, returning to his shared quarter to sit down abed beside Wei Ying, spreading his hand over the covers without intruding on his husband. )
Your son is grateful. ( Wordlessly, in the way of tyrants. )
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After, he does what he said he would and gets into bed. He considers bringing out a blanket, but decides he’ll be warm enough snuggled close to his husband and won’t need the additional heat.
He proves Lan Zhan correct by watching him as he returns to the main bedroom. He’s already in the center of the bed, ready to twine their limbs together as soon as Lan Zhan comes close enough. Even he feels the relief the cooling talismans bring into the room and he’d grown up with the humid Lotus Pier heat. Maybe it’s the body or maybe he’s just acclimated so thoroughly to the relatively mild springs of Cloud Recesses.]
Is he? It’s not too cold for him? [No, Lan Liang will be fine. The temperature with the talisman is still warmer than winter nights in Cloud Recesses, but he’s only a mother and worries as one. He stifles a big yawn with the sheet, then pats the mattress next to him.] I’ll convince you to sleep in with me tomorrow. [Or Lan Zhan will wake him with sex and he’ll be the one changing his sleeping schedule.]
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His arms round over and beneath Wei Ying's body, bringing him close beneath silken covers so loose and thin, they may as well be gossamer. Then, in the dark of the night he summons after hushing their candles shuttered, he murmurs: )
There is no morning call.
( Spoken in something akin to wonder, in awe of the sheer profligacy of such a gesture. Impossible to think of such lax discipline in Cloud Recesses, where every hour of the day is scrupulously triaged and diligently assigned. And still, Lotus Pier somehow functions without subjecting its disciples to perpetual martial drills. )
What do men do with themselves here every morning?
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Most people just wake up when the sun rises and the roosters crow. The academic classes are in the mornings and the physical training is in the afternoons for disciples. There’s plenty of time outside of that where we could do other things like play games or catch fish. [Or get themselves into trouble.]
But you asked about the men. I guess that depends on what their professions are. By late morning, everyone’s working or studying.
[He rests his head on Lan Zhan’s arm, looking at him despite not being able to see him well in the dark. He can imagine his face, though. Smiling, he touches Lan Zhan’s face with his fingertips.]
Not everyone sleeps the same hours I do. A lot of the evening and night merchants do. It’s not unusual to find street vendors selling food well past the start of Lan sleeping hours.
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( He murmurs and tips his head into Wei Ying's searching hand, offering out his cheek for touch and his entire person for companionship his lover has never denied him, except at the worst of his descent to the dead. Some part of Lan Wangji always fears the return of that man, husked and made raw, under the stresses of necromancy. He is wise — they are both wise — to forget him now.
Coming together, he curls up with Wei Ying, only disturbing his husband's peace to drag him over Lan Wangji's body, the perfect and unassuming blanket. His mouth chases Wei Ying's temple, warm. )
To think a Patriarch so vicious emerged from softness and play. ( The rumor mill will never be able to reconcile with this. )
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[He follows the gentle coaxing and drapes himself over Lan Zhan, their legs left to fight over placement until they’re both comfortable and content with the position. He lifts his head to kiss Lan Zhan, using his fingers to guide their faces close together. He keeps the kiss relatively chaste, only lingering a little while longer than he means to.
Lotus Pier is a land of decadence and leisure compared to the meticulous scheduling of Cloud Recesses. This is where he’d grown up and thrived before the war started and where he’d missed desperately when he was in the Burial Mounds. He still misses it some, but it’s a dull ache compared to the raw nostalgia in his first life. He just isn’t built to follow thousands of rules, though he does try! Still, he wouldn’t move back to Lotus Pier on a permanent basis. His life is with Gusu Lan now and he’s happy there with Lan Zhan and the kids.
He snorts a little laugh and buries his face against the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck.] Imagine if I’d grown up in the Unclean Realms. I would have been brutal. Instead, I just gave the Wen Remnants a place to till the land and harvest radishes.
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Not Lan Wangji's love, then. Not the man who clings to him now as if a coverlet, a second skin. Wei Ying's vulnerability is his weapon. Even now, for all he's seemingly fragile spread across Lan Wangji, he dominates their encounter.
And Lan Wangji, impossibly fond, voice cracking with good humor, can't help but conceding to him in whatever way he needs done. )
Do you regret?
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I did. After what happened with Jin Zixuan, I did. [He doesn’t bother calling him a peacock for this. Even to him, that would feel too tacky.] And then again at the Nightless City where… you know, when I lost my shijie, I regretted it.
[He turns his head a bit and kisses Lan Zhan’s shoulder blade before he lifts his head and looks down at Lan Zhan. His vision is accustomed to the darkness now, but he still can only see a vague outline of Lan Zhan’s face.]
I don’t regret it now. It brought us together, no matter how hard it was to go through, I’d do it again because I wouldn’t want to live in a world where we’re not together.
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Even now, humbled by Wei Ying's affection, he only nods and sighs and welcomes him with open arms, unable to offer him better salvation. )
Nor I. ( A pause, fleeting. Then, with inevitability: ) But a life with your sister might have been kinder.
( For all Jiang Yanli would probably have steered her brother away from his hurts, his vengeance, his outbursts — and the death and rebirth that ultimately reunited him with Lan Wangji. But would that have been such a wretched fate for Wei Ying? He suffered too much too swiftly.
Although he basks in some comeuppance now, he will never forget the cost at which that reward came. )
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[He shakes his head again, his hair falling across Lan Zhan’s shoulder as he leans over him. If he could go back in time to change anything, he would have never gone to Jinlintai to see his sister before he confronted the rest of the clans. It had always been a suicide mission even before he lost her and with her loss, the last of his control.
He doesn’t want to think too much about this right before bed. It tends to invite the nightmares.]
It wouldn’t just mean losing my future with you. We would have never known Sizhui or Liang.
[He leans down and touches the tip of his nose to Lan Zhan’s.] I don’t regret it. [He presses his lips to Lan Zhan’s, but he keeps it short, pulling back but still within Lan Zhan’s range in case he wants more.] If I had to do it all over again, I’d endure it so I could get back to you.
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( His beautiful love, his only soulmate. Their noses shift and battle and collide, and he breathes in the scent of his husband's beauty, body undulating only to swallow the light movements of Wei Ying settling above.
Their kiss barely ends his spasms, itself too abrupt for Lan Wangji's appetites but likely the balm they need after heated lovemaking. Years on, he has come to trust Wei Ying with their bodies, to no longer over-direct and take command. Wei Ying too has learned to pace them.
They mirror each other, balance out, fill each other completely. )
I regret no part of this, but Father's passing and your sorrow. ( And softened: ) I am too selfish to not do as I did before, in a second life.
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I love you, Lan Zhan. I know I say it all the time, so you’re used to hearing it by now, but I really do love you.
[He lays his head down on Lan Zhan’s shoulder again, nosing at his neck. He’s physically exhausted, but his mind is alert. It’s tempting to seduce Lan Zhan for some more lovemaking, but he can behave himself. Lan Zhan’s been traveling for days and it’s well past Lan sleeping hours, so he holds back.]
I’m happy. We went through a lot but we found each other in the end. Let’s give our kids the lives we should have been given. No more regrets.
[No more wars. No more losses. Just a peaceful life filled with joys and stability.]
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