wuding | Date in Lotus Pier

( His knuckles, kissed, bear the print of Wei Ying's mouth, the wet of it a friendly, warm sheen. He curls his fingers inward, squeezing. Releases, then grasps Wei Ying's hand again. Truly, his lover is a miracle performed at the price of Mo Xuanyu's life, an undoubted exception.

Would Madam Yu truly oppose their union for its lack of decorum? He suspects, all else equal, she would be just as rejecting or indifferent to their marriage under whatever their circumstances. Now and then, Wei Ying appears to deceive himself that his aunt bore him some degree of tangible affection. Lan Wangji doubts it so: love is not a thing of torture, a weapon thrust against those weaker or of humbler standing. Love is not a hardship, or a punishment to be inflicted.

But he cannot harm his husband with that reminder. Here and now, he has agreed to beg this woman's blessing — and he has bowed his back. He cannot come back with belated objections. )

We cannot seclude and ignore Sizhui. ( They cannot seclude, he does not say, and leave Sizhui alone to his devices with Jin Ling. ) Shall we swim?

[He smiles through his disappointment. He knows they shouldn’t spend all their time in their rooms together when they’re here to spend time with family, but he can’t help but feel somewhat let down. It’s not because he’s just a pervert who wants an excuse to sleep with his husband. They’ll still sleep together that night before bed, so they won’t risk missing that particular part of the ritual. It’s just that it’s been part of their weddings up until this coming one.

He nods his head and squeezes Lan Zhan’s hand before letting it go and getting back to his feet only to offer it to Lan Zhan again.]

Let’s go swimming! Tomorrow, we can fly kites with the kids. [He only hopes he remembers to buy one for Jin Ling beforehand. He doesn’t want the kid to feel left out.

He waits until they’re out of the Ancestral Hall to wrap himself around Lan Zhan’s arm. He won’t lean on him too long because it’s warm out and he knows Lan Zhan doesn’t respond well to being overheated.]

Do you want to see the archery field, too? We can do that tomorrow, too.

( Flying kites, swimming, marrying and entertaining only the sweetest, most rewarding of ventures. He can enjoy such a life. And so he nods along, careful and measured, attentive to Wei Ying's needs, his tiniest of signals.

Their hands bind together, fingers curling. Lan Wangji tugs once, then allows himself to be dragged along, as if he does not concentrate the better part of their combined weight. Out of the halls, Wei Ying seems to come more and more back to himself, leaning subtly to offer Lan Wangji the comfort of his nearby weight without overly imposing it.

Wangji's mouth travels down to press on the crown of his head. He looks away. )

Will you shoot for me? ( A handsome sight. )

I think we can manage that. You’ll shoot, too?

[He squeezes Lan Zhan’s arm before he lets go so they don’t start sticking together with sweat. Hands folded behind his head as he walks, a pinnacle of leisure.

He’s been practicing, weather permitting, during some of the days while Lan Zhan pretends at being a politician —- No, his husband is far too kind and sincere for politics. —- This body feels as natural to him at as his first one by now. He’s regained that physical intuition he’d struggled with at first, so his air of confidence is genuine.]

Let’s make it interesting. How about we have a competition?

( Wei Ying's approval, the lack of tension as he gives it — he had hoped, desperately and inevitably, but he'd abandoned the possibility that his husband might return to his ways of old.

Wei Ying has clung stubbornly to his rejection of his old body's proficiencies, determined to live within the natural limitations of Mo Xuanyu's weakness. Here, now he sheds that reluctance, showing himself sincerely keen.

Lan Wangji squeezes his hand in return, allowing them a light sway for all they're under broad daylight and any disciple can stare at the open, shameless romanticism of the acting sect leader of Gusu Lan and his lovely paramour. )

And when I lose? ( Lan Wangji, after all, hasn't practised the bow in far too long. )

Don’t give up before we’ve started!

[He laughs though, bumping the side of his hip against Lan Zhan’s. In his mind, Lan Zhan is just as skilled as he’d been when they’d competed before. It’s only because of Lan Zhan’s words now that he has to wonder if maybe he’s overestimating his husband. Muscle memory should kick in even after years of neglecting practice. The lack of muscle memory in Mo Xuanyu’s body had given him a hard time when he’d started shooting again.

He lets Lan Zhan take his hand again, lifting it up to kiss it a few times. They could be observed by anyone while walking this path, but he doesn’t care about that. They’re married, so flirting outwardly like this is acceptable, though it could become shameless if they keep it up.]

Did you bring your bow? We can fit you for one after swimming if you didn’t!

[Oh, but they’re talking about prizes, aren’t they? He’s tempted to demand the shi-long seclusion after their wedding, but he doesn’t disagree that they should prioritize the kids while they’re on vacation.

He hums as he thinks it over.] You give me anything I ask for anyway, so what would I like if I win? How about… if I win, you can let us me spoil you however I want?

( On instinct, his step stills, and he turns to face Wei Ying with something approaching despondence, wholly aghast at the suggestion — )

Wei Ying is the one who has earned - ( But then, his suggestion is precisely why Wei Ying makes his demand, and Lan Wangji withdraws back into himself, incrementally, but increasingly at ease with what his husband asks.

It is fair, in the way of things. The way of the world. He sighs, gaze turning upward where a merciless sun smiles down, and he accepts his fate. What a strange, bitter thing, to be loved. How he despises it.

All at once, he revises his behavior, falling in line and resumes walking alongside his husband. They are both trying their best: Wei Ying to reinject himself in the life of Yunmeng. Lan Wangji to adapt to the... leisurely volatility of this world. )

...very well, my love. But you must warn me for excesses of kindness.

[Patient, for once, he faces Lan Zhan with a grin. It’s too cute to see him waffle about like this and he knows he’s going to get his way before Lan Zhan realizes it. He likes doing things for Lan Zhan and spoiling him with touch, especially massages. Usually, he waits until Lan Zhan asks him for a massage, but by then it’s already past the point of discomfort for him. ]

You never warn me for it.

[His smile is sly as he coils around Lan Zhan’s arm again. A sharp tug and he’s able to pull Lan Zhan down for a quick kiss on his cheek.]

I look forward to pampering you like a good wife would. If warning you first gives me permission to dote on you as much as I want, I’ll agree to it.

What about you, Lan Zhan? If you win, what would you want?

( Is there anything that he wants, anything that he can yet claim for himself? The truth is he has achieved everything his station demanded of him, exceeding expectations. He steps in place of Zewu-Jun now, has commanded armies prior. He is Hanguang-Jun, an example of dignity and cultivation, a gentleman of the elevated world.

His family is hale and whole, his children grow, his husband is returned. He wants for nothing, and he has earned less. Despite it, Wei Ying hangs off his arm and smiles like the sun, and truly, what more can be said and requested between them?

Lan Wangji's cheek burns where Wei Ying's lips meet it. He blinks away the start of flustered, feverish embarrassment. And he nods, slow and measured and no less than is expected of him, dragging his soulmate closer with the swing of an arm at his lower back. )

Wei Ying's red ribbon.

( Truly, a beastly thing to ask, but little else will stoke Wei Ying's competitiveness like demanding the pettily impossible. )

[They’ve traded his red ribbon before for Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon, but he feels a touch surprised that he’s never sent Lan Zhan away from with both ribbons. He spends so much time wanting everyone to know that he belongs to Lan Zhan that he overlooks how important it is to show people that Lan Zhan belongs to him, too.]

This one, specifically? It’s yours, if you win.

[He’ll even wear his hair down that day, but he doesn’t plan on throwing the competition. He likes the idea of going head to head with Lan Zhan without either of them holding back. It pushes both of them to be better. And it reminds them that at the end of the day, they’re equals.

He nestles close, taking a deep breath and reveling in the pleasant smell of his husband’s robes. Now, they might be seen as a bit shameless, but it’s hard not to flirt when the opportunity presents itself.]

We’re almost to the docks.

[He wants to thank Lan Zhan for coming with him and giving him the opportunity to share some of his childhood memories. So what if they’re grown men? It’s important to have fun regardless of age.]

So, Lan-er-gege, are you ready? I can’t promise no one’s found my special place in the last eighteen years or that it’s still there, but don’t you want to see it?

( I am already before the sun. And Wei Ying smiles back at him.

No, he cannot ask more than this, and so he does the inevitable: as his husband leans in, Lan Wangji extends an arm behind his back to draw him closer, then carefully dips down to wrap a second arm behind Wei Ying's legs. Caught in a bridal hold, he continues slowly making his own down the dock, attentive to the shifting wood panels underfoot, and to how the water's lull raises and drops them.

In the end, he's only following Wei Ying's direction, patiently awaiting for his husband to either direct him to go on forward or to signal when he wants to be set down. )

Is it the first time Wei Ying shares it with another person?

( Above all, it seems to him more that his husband is burning for the chance to share. )

[Laughing, he throws his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and gives him an awkward embrace. After, he settles in his husband’s arms comfortably and points the direction to dock where they can use boats for a small fee. He’d never actually had to pay for it before since it was always charged to his uncle’s tab.

After only a few days here, he still suffers from a certain amount of anonymity. Familiar faces greet him with superficial smiles they’d direct towards any potential customer.

Today, the only reason he’s recognized is because the boat woman spotted the renowned Hanguang-Jun and deduced his identity from that. He laughs it off but he still whines at Lan Zhan about it once they’re out of earshot.]

You’re more famous than I am in my own hometown. I just look like another illegitimate Jin heir, but you’ve got the presence of a war hero.

I previously avoided Lotus Pier.

( Between his grief for Wei Ying and brimming antipathy for Jiang Wanyin. Perhaps juvenile, given the earnest need of all common people for assistance with base spirits many cultivators think themselves too senior to tackle. Hanguang-Jun attended wherever the chaos went. )

Yunmeng only recalls me for the war.

( Back when Jiang Cheng and he still made common ground to find Wei Ying, after his capture at the hands of the Wen. When Hanguang-Jun's ferocity blighted eyes on the battlefield.

No matter. Now, he is a suitably tame thing, still refusing to relinquish his husband but juggling him clunkily only long enough to reach through his sleeve for coins from this qiankun bag, then toss the fee to the nearby dock master. They are pointed — laughing, because even old men can appreciate the struggle of a besotted man vying to balance his beloved — toward a slim, narrow boat that sways gently on placid waves.

He climbs in, finally, woefully allowing Wei Ying to take his seat on the light bench within, before doing the same before his husband. )

They love me better for my coin purse.

I’ve seen children all over play acting us and our peers from the war. You’re a popular role for the quiet kids.

[He hangs onto Lan Zhan easily, supporting himself when Lan Zhan struggles to access his purse and only switches to both arms when they enter the boat. He’s no stranger to the sway of boats underfoot but this is the first time as an adult to be carried onto one consciously. He trusts his husband to keep his balance and he’s rewarded by being safely sat on one side of the boat.

They could have paid extra to have someone steer and row for them, but he knows how and they’d rather have some modicum of privacy.]

You’ll be recognized as a regular visitor soon enough.

[With his relationship with Jiang Cheng improving, he’s already thinking of coming to Lotus Pier regularly. He knows Lan Zhan is busy when they’re in Cloud Recesses, so it’s only natural for him to want to drag Lan Zhan out of Cloud Recesses to force him to relax.

First thing’s first. He unties the rope mooring the boat to the dock, then he picks up the oar and uses it to push off the dock. The last time they’d been on one of these, he’d been unconscious during the beginning part of it. Wen Ning had probably taken charge of the work back then.]

I’ve never shown anyone about ny special place. Shijie knew I had one but I never took her or anyone else there. You’re the first! I used to go there when I wanted to avoid Madame Yu or when I wanted to get away from everyone for a little while. It’s a good place for fishing, too!

( Play acting... as them. To think they've become mythical, legends alive. To think they're the talk and praise of children. It nearly staggers him, the understanding that, alongside this man, he has achieved something exceptional. That they have spared the realm some harm, once upon a time.

For all that Yunmeng dominates among lake-bearing clans with its territories, they're not alone in knowing the work of water. Still, Lan Wangji politely allows his gracious host — who is more excited to introduce him to his special place than he has been about anything in some time — to unmoor them, settling back on his bench, hands neatly pressed on his knees.

He does not offer to bear the oars, for all he is stronger. He does not intercede. )

Will it not tarnish it, to have it be known by another?

[He grins, thanking Lan Zhan in his mind for allowing him to row for now. It gives him a way to channel some of his excess energy into something productive. Once they’re away from the docks, he turns to look back at his husband.]

Not if it’s you.

[It’s true that it’s a private place he’s never wanted to share with anyone before, but that’s only because he didn’t have a special someone who he’d want to share it with.]

We can’t go the whole way on the boat, but that’s why I’m taking you when we were already going to be swimming.

[He winks, playfully leering at his husband for a moment.]

I figured you’d be more comfortable swimming with some privacy, anyway.

[He doesn’t have plans to take advantage of that privacy, but he wouldn’t be against some making out or more. If his place is still there and accessible, it’s a beautiful little spot. If only they waited until dusk, it would be even prettier with the aid of fireflies. Next time.]

( Swimming, yes. And basking in a sun that already sweetly threatens to burn him, and leaving their limbs out to thaw and their minds to ease. Swimming, and he feels already the honeyed lethargy that compels so many of the natives of Yunmeng to simply simmer and sleep, to move no further. Swimming, and Lan Wangji cannot imagine a world where he moves another beat.

He leans back for a moment, dropping down artlessly on his elbows propped up haphazardly on their bench, facing skies bright and blue and their sea of gossamer clouds and Wei Ying's vibrant shape again. He breathes in. Out. Nods, and it's Wei Ying, Wei Ying who draws him in, Wei Ying whom he orbits.

Wei Ying, whom he cannot get enough of. Cheekily, perhaps no better than the rowdy children who scream ashore, he feels the itch to tease coming. Unbidden, his foot leaves his boot, toes tickling the inner swell of Wei Ying's tender calf, slipping to round behind his knee. )

My husband does not wish to share me with the world. ( To think, even Wei Ying has his manner of possessiveness. )

[Just when he thinks his heart is at capacity for love, Lan Zhan does something adorable and suddenly he’s overwhelmed by fondness all over again. He grins and takes in the sight of his husband basking somewhere between languid and lethargic. There’s a certain allure to the look and the shimmer of sweat adds to it.

Laughing, he allows himself to be caught and lured close. With the oar still in hand, he steps between his husband’s legs and bends over him so he’s sure Lan Zhan will have a hard time looking at anything but him.]

I already have to share you with the kids. I don’t think I could take having to share you with anyone else.

[They’re so close already, all he needs to do is take a half step closer and he puts himself in kissing range. His eyes give away his intent when they glance to Lan Zhan’s lips.]

( ...ah. This child, born to a world of dust and dirt and nothing, can't help himself even now. This child wants to eat him alive.

Wei Ying watches him, an unpracticed predator who never learned to school his gestures, to tame his impulses — and Lan Wangji feels the burn of his interest warm Wangji's mouth, lick its outline. He clicks his tongue once, letting the tip of his straddle the contour. Breathes in. And out.

And, once again, the foot he's bound to Wei Ying's calf pulls him in and deeper and closer. He prepares for the quiet certainty of Wei Ying's collapse over him, one arm splaying in a clean arc to his side, opening wide. Come on. Come on, then. )

Come, then.

( Who can tell, who can see see far into the lake? )

[He all but stumbles onto his husband with a kiss-muffled laugh, catching himself with one hand on the side of the boat. He drops the oar to the bottom of their vessel and makes himself comfortable on his reclining husband.]

I’m here. How would you like me, Lan Zhan?

[Smiling, he peppers Lan Zhan’s jaw and cheeks with honeyed kisses. His real target is his husband’s lips and he kisses him there again, sucking softly at his bottom lip. His tongue explores Lan Zhan’s mouth, tasting the vague memory of their most recent meal and the tea he’d had to drink with it.

The gentle rocking of the boat adds to the moment in a way that keeps both of them technically innocent. At least until he tests the waters by pressing his hips gently down against Lan Zhan’s. Between the kissing and the heat building between them, his body is already showing some interest in more.

Before he gets too breathless, he pulls back enough to look down at Lan Zhan’s face.]

Hello.

( If he could enjoy only one part of his husband for the remaining eternity, if he could partake of only this, if he could only drink Wei Ying down in this way and this way alone — he'd do it, the draw of his husband's mouth infinite, delectable, passionate, powerful.

His hands bind clumsily around his lover's neck, always slower to react from a dominated position. Above him, Wei Ying is strength and resilience, a proper force. Their tongues twine, battle, bind. He kisses back, the innocently accruing friction between their teased bodies another challenge amid the boat's gentle sway.

For once, Wei Ying breaks first — and Lan Wangji is breathless in the wake of his attention, slow blinking, mouth bruised and swollen. His head cotton, wool and soft. He licks his own lips. )

...hi. ( He feels stricken, entirely seduced, thrown off his game. ) Water nymph, have you seen my husband?

[He takes in the look on Lan Zhan’s face. The softness there and the bare affection. All he wants to do is to find somewhere comfortable where they can show each other how much they love each other. The boat is small though, but not as small as the tubs they frequently mess around in.]

I took him to a place far under the surface of the water, but I can take his place for you.

[He takes the time to adjust their positioning so it’s more stable, then he folds his arms and rests them on Lan Zhan’s chest to hold himself up in a flirtier way.]

You’re pretty.

[He smiles sweetly, tilting his head to one side. Lan Zhan looks delicious with his eyes dark with want and his cheeks colored. His eyebrows raise with a question.]

We could put off our swim until later if you want to stay in the boat for a little while instead.

[He eyes Lan Zhan’s lips when he says it. Sure, he wants to show Lan Zhan his special place, but Lan Zhan is his special person and he wants to kiss him more. And maybe do a little more than kissing.]

( Pretty, Wei Ying says, and it's soft and sweet and boyishly, helplessly charming. Every part of him giving and yielding and wooing, a kindly young thing courting his first paramor. Maybe this would have been the earnest Wei Wuxian, luring his first maiden to a boat ride before claiming her lips. He was meant for sweet, tender things, for poetry. He was meant for more.

Just as Wei Ying brackets him, Lan Wangji obediently melts into the boat's floorboard, welcoming his hovered presence, calling him close and suspending a hand over his lower back. There's no reason, Lan Wangji suspects, to assume they'll capsize — but this is their luck, after all, and he's not surrendering Wei Ying to something as pedestrian as drowning.

Their mouths meet again, charmed, slow, easy. He has neither the burning energy of frustratede passion, nor the impatience of a hungry youth. He takes his time. )

You promised. ( He wants to see this safe haven Wei Ying has shared with no others. )

[He follows Lan Zhan’s pace, kissing with a simmering intent instead of a scorching one. Leisurely, he lowers himself on top of Lan Zhan, careful to make sure no parts of his husband are pinched in the process. Maybe it’s the heat or the ambience, but he’s feeling like taking things at a slower pace, too.]

Mmhmm, I sure did. [Smiling, he keeps kissing Lan Zhan’s face and mouth between syllables.] I’ll take you there today. The question is which order we do things.

[He drapes himself over his husband, only holding a small portion of his own weight with one knee and one elbow. His other hand comes up to caress Lan Zhan’s neck and jaw.]

What do you think? This is romantic being out here on the water, isn’t it? I want to be with you. Either here or in my place, or both if you’re up for it, but I’m getting what I want most just by being here right now.

( How forward. How transgressive. How utterly charming, Wei Ying draped over him like a siren who's entrapped his prey in his spell. Lan Wangji cannot escape him, wilted beneath him, answering the call of his touch, drifting his head up.

He stutters only enough to meet Wei Ying's mouth again, to incite another kiss. To enjoy his husband's presence, his warmth, his scent. He breathes him in, then finally, wickedly, devastatingly — he lets go.

And he begins, in trickling motions, to raise himself in measured increments. What a pity. )

Have your reward later. ( And a final, parting kiss, Lan Wangji's teeth dragging over his husband's lower lip. ) You promised.

( He would sooner see Wei Ying's prized secret than risk distraction. )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject