wuding | Date in Lotus Pier

( 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. )

[A delay isn’t the end of the world, even though he wants to switch spots with Lan Zhan and enjoy some more affection. Still, the reminder of his promise has him reluctantly accepting the dwindling amounts of physical affection. Later, they’ll finish what they started. He just has to wait until later then.

He moves back to let Lan Zhan start to get back up. He’s given what is obviously supposed to be a parting kiss, but Wei Wuxian grabs the collar of his husband’s robe and pulls him close again for another, deeper parting kiss.

He’s the one to pull back this time with a fake pout.]

You’re the one who started it and now I get to suffer through wanting my husband while we finish our date. I’ll hold you to giving me that reward.

[He finishes moving back and sits on his knees for a few moments to just look at his husband and take in the bliss of the moment. The freedom from responsibilities that they get to savor for the rest of the afternoon. They have days like this in Cloud Recesses, too, and they’re his favorite.]

We’re not far from where we’ll have to leave the boat behind. You’re not breath shy when it comes to diving underwater, are you? It’s not a long swim, but it’s the only way to get there.

I will do Cloud Recesses proud.

( Not breath shy, not shy of diving, not shy of anything at all, but the blooming intensity of his husband's sweet regard. Wei Ying at long last releases him from his thrall, and Lan Wangji recovers, sitting properly now, then upright and capturing the oar in hand.

He starts them at a measured pace in the general direction Wei Ying had rowed before, awaiting him to point his steer when the course must change. His lover had toiled enough. Lan Wangji will not suffer his strain any further. )

Tell me when to stop. ( He can be entrusted, he has proven, with hard labor, and the sweet kisses of the warming day's sun will not deter him. It casts a halo around him, warms and gives him light.

He wants to say more. To offer more. As ever, finds he struggles. A bitter fate. )

Show me your world.

[It’s his turn to sit and watch the man he loves do the hard work for him. He wonders if Lan Zhan appreciated the view like he’s doing now. Too bad Lan Zhan insists on wearing layers. If he were in a solitary white silk robe, he’s certain he’d be able to see every detail of his flexing muscles.

It’s been two years and he still has an enormous crush on his husband! And he’s certain it’s true for Lan Zhan, too.]

All you need to see that is a mirror.

[He can’t help it. Lan Zhan gifted him with the perfect opening. With a sly look, he takes a seat to continue watching. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he leans back on his palms.]

Not too much farther. It should be to the east along the tree line. [He points in that direction.]. There, where the hanging willows are. There’s a break below the surface that we can swim through. It’s a straight shot. When you reach the other side, swim to the surface and you’re there. I’ll go first and make sure it’s still there. I can hold my breath for a long time.

[He doesn’t think about the fact that he hasn’t needed to test that in this body.]

( ...and what, precisely, is his beautiful lover doing, stretched back on the boat's belly like a satisfied cat licking cream off his whiskers? Tsk-ing and clicking his tongue, Lan Wangji nearly nudges the pleasingly emerging roundness of Wei Ying's calf with the tip of his boot, careful not to unbalance him, but arduously enough to draw his attention.

Really, this perverted creature, whom Lan Wangji still obeys diligently with the steady, monotonous steer of his boat. After all, why fight the current? )

If you are disciplined now, I shall reward it later.

( Swimming, first — and Lan Wangji's duty to deliver them to safe grounds. He does precisely as instructed, staying their advance only once they reach the willows, content to throw down their anchor until the boat has settled and ripples quiet. After, when he has struck the oar each way to verify the boat won't budge and the waters are clear of any potential danger, he signals Wei Ying ahead: )

Plunge. I shall follow.

I’ll keep my hands to myself if you do. [They both know that it’s not just him who needs to be disciplined when it comes to sharing physical affection. It’s like Lan Zhan wants to catch up on all the time they missed by showering him with enough physical affection to keep him more than satisfied.

He stands back up and sheds his outer robe, leaving himself in just his underpants. It had been too warm to put on more this morning and it’s not like he’s ever been bound by modesty. He kicks off his boots and puts them in the same pile as his robe.]

One more kiss for good luck?

[He maneuvers to the center of the boat so he can pull Lan Zhan in for a slow, sweet kiss. Before long, he’s pulling away with a wink so he can step over the edge of the boat and leap into the water.

He stays under for a few moments before swimming back to the surface and grinning up at Lan Zhan.]

Lan Zhan! I’m going on ahead, okay? The opening isn’t far below the surface and gets wider as you swim down for a while.

[With that, he takes another dive underwater to swim closer to the opening before emerging again and waving Lan Zhan over.]

See you on the other side!

[He disappears underwater again and leads the way through the passage. He’s pleased to find his little cavern right where he expects it. On the other side of the short swim, he’s finds himself in a lotus-filled pool surrounded by dense trees. There’s room enough for a couple on one bank in case they want to get out of the water and sit together.

He swims out of the way and calls back.]

It’s all clear on this side, Lan Zhan!

( One more kiss that, if Wei Ying had not pulled back strategically, might well have turned into a proper diversion and their afternoon melting into a tryst of convulsing limbs and heated gasps. He's still aching as he watches his husband's splendid form in the water, utterly entranced before finally, diabolically slowly, diving in himself.

The water's tepid, never frothing like the glacial rivers of Cloud Recesses, even outside the territory of the cold streams. He cuts through it with unexpected enthusiasm, mindful of the opening Wei Ying had signaled, holding his breath without ache to his lungs as he dives —

Only to resurface on the other side, overwhelmed by the beauty of the enclave. Green thickets, lush vegetation. Pretty flattened lotuses floating idly by. He takes care to keep his limbs by himself and avoid trashing, once he finds his balance, should the waters prove inevitably shallower by the bank.

Then, to Wei Ying, in a voice of wonder: )

...thank you. ( It is beautiful. ) I am grateful for my gift.

[Instead of looking at nostalgic scenery, he spends his time watching Lan Zhan take it in. If anything, it looks like Lan Zhan appreciates it more than he does. It’s a good time of day for this where the sun comes in at an angle and beams between the leaves. Even without the fireflies, he’s pleased.

He swims close to his husband and smiles at him before, finally, taking a look around for himself. It’s perfectly closed off around all sides and he doubts even the owner of the lake knows about it.]

I’m glad you came with me. I’ve never had anyone to share this with.

[He throws his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and hangs on him for a moment, letting Lan Zhan keep them afloat on his own until he laughs and lets go of him.]

It’s a good spot, isn’t it? Pretty romantic, too! If we want to stay here for a while, I can go back and grab my qiankun purse.

[He tilts his head closer, making sure Lan Zhan is looking at him.]

If you want to stay here for a little while, I’d like some refreshments.

( The view, the feeling of Wei Ying, gently pressed against him. The warmth of the water, the lick of silks on his back. He feels more welcome in this lone nook than in the entirety of Lotus Pier, gaze softening as he takes the space in.

Uninvited, once Wei Ying peels himself off him, Lan Wangji begins to step out on the bank, indifferent to the inevitable cold breeze of wetness on his flesh, his robe's rim dragging like spumes behind him. In the end, after surveying the enclave, he deigns to sit down, legs kicked out ungentlemanly so that his toes might tease the waters. For once, he has had the audacity to renounce his boots, though he has held on to multiple layers, to respect modesty. )

You should not drink and swim. ( But resistance before Wei Ying's appetites is futile, and he waves his husband away to retrieve his refreshments. )

Go. ( And in the same breath, absent-minded: ) We should marry here.

[At first, he follows Lan Zhan to the bank but doesn’t take a seat for himself quite yet. Seeing Lan Zhan relax puts into perspective how tense he’s been while staying at Lotus Pier. It’s doubtful that the relationship between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan will ever be good, but he hopes it can at least become welcoming.]

Aww, come on, I’ve been drinking before swimming for ages. I won’t drink a lot.

[He feels his heart stir at the comment about being married in this enclave. He tries to push down the welling of excitement the comment about wedding here brings. Earlier, he’d jumped too fast into the idea of marrying in the Ancestral Hall and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up again.]

After getting the dress robes?

[He looks around again, smiling at the idea of it. It would be another private ceremony between the two of them. They might be able to squeeze a handful of people in if they wanted to include the kids and Jiang Cheng but he doesn’t want to share this place with anyone other than Lan Zhan.]

After.

( He agrees, because it has been some time since meeting Wei Ying in his reds, for all he suspects his husband's wardrobe will soon start boasting a healthy volume of crimson garments. They suit him, both straight worn — for all they harken back to Qishan Wen — and styled as the starting layers of sophisticated robe arrangements. And for all Lan Wangji is loathe to make waste of his ancestral fortunes, does Hanguang-Jun's share of the war spoils and exorcisms conducted for years on the road not entitle him to offer his wife at least this much indulgence?

In light of this, of everything — he has no hesitation. Wei Ying is owed this
much, and Lan Wangji will manifest it, whatever the cost. Even now, delightedly all but comatose, he waits for his lover to approach him, unmoving, uncaring, basking. Waves Wei Ying forward, tapping two fingers on his own mouth to signal the need for a parting kiss. )

Leave me a gift before you head on for refreshments.

( Really, who is the spoiled creature between them? He has become too much of a hedonist, a careless creature. No — his mouth curls softly — he is the worst between them. )

[It makes him smile to see Lan Zhan basking like the cat who at the oriole. He likes to think he’s been a good influence on his husband’s ability to enjoy life. Lan Qiren would be aghast, but that makes him like it even more. If anyone deserves to feel the good parts of life, it’s Lan Zhan.]

You don’t need two layers if it’s just the two of us.

[Though it might me best to keep them on lest Lan Zhan wants to be an insect’s feast now that they’re on land. Alas, it’s the cost of such a beautiful and untouched enclave. He can’t tell if there’s been anyone here or not since the last time he’s been here.

With a little laugh, he kneels down in front of Lan Zhan. ]

I won’t be long. [He knows if he really starts kissing Lan Zhan like he means it, he’ll delay his errand. Unless he retrieves the qiankun pouch, they’ll probably end up rutting against each other with no lubricant to ease their way. So he keeps the kiss shallow enough for his escape.]

Get comfortable. I’ll be back before you know it.

[He walks backwards into the water, watching Lan Zhan until he’s in at waist level. One wave later, he throws himself forward and into the water. It doesn’t take him long to fetch the qiankun pouch.]

Edited 2025-05-26 23:13 (UTC)

( Abandoned, bereft, never to know love again. He might be a — particularly drenched — maiden of old, adrift in his enclave, never to be returned his honor. He might be entirely, hopelessly infatuated.

He might be a fool for Wei Ying, a fool for how he waits with bated breath and does not doubt his lover's return. No, he will come. He ever comes. And Lan Wangji, despairingly trusting, heeds him.

For now, he busies himself with dusting off the stretch of stone he's perched onto, knowing all too well Wei Ying will shortly follow, and casting a talisman of flame at the very opposite end of the cave to lure insects to their death at a distance. Perhaps not entirely safeguarded, but close.

He waits until Wei Ying peers again, until he may hold out his hand and assist even though they both know a son of Lotus Pier will surely always be more comfortable in its confines. )

You swim beautifully. ( What a thing it is, to be so wretchedly in love. )

[Fetching his qiankun pouch is a necessity since he’d left behind everything they would need to have a comfortable time. Drinks, snacks, towels… oils. Among other things. He hadn’t meant to leave it behind at all, but he’d still managed to forget about it.

He’s not gone for long and he comes back to find Lan Zhan hasn’t been idle. In just a few more steps, he’s able to take his husband’s hand and walk out of the water towards him.]

You think I’m beautiful all the time, so doesn’t that mean I do everything beautifully?

[He tosses the pouch to the place they’ll be sitting, then he steps closer to his husband and gazes into his eyes. He can imagine them here with an alter of their creating so they can marry. Both of them in their reds. Dry, of course, as they’d do their changing after the swim.]

Having a wedding here would be nice, wouldn’t it? Somewhere only we know about. We could be efficient, too. We wouldn’t need a seclusion, just a quarter of a shi after the wedding and we’ll swim right afterwards, so no need for a bath.

( Emerging from the waters like a nymph — truly, his husband is magnificent. Breath-stealing, life-changing, a creature of fables and legends and beauty and pride. Lan Wangji assists him, undeserving, only peeling away to finally recover the discarded qiankun pouch and lay it down on the bank as if an otherworldly treasure.

Within: refreshments, as Wei Ying had indicated, the convenience of towels, and — the very tips of Lan Wangji's ears flush feverishly; he settles the oil jar down like a pretty trinket, pointedly ignoring it to instead offer out Wei Ying's wine. Surely, that is what he'd intended to recover all along.

As for the question, inevitably: )

We may. ( And softened: ) Why do you so hate ablutions?

[The wine is absolutely one of the things he’d wanted most. They’ve been walking and boating in the harsh sun all day up to this point. Mo Xuanyu’s body isn’t built to tolerate the humid heat and it’s making him feel thirsty, so he wastes no time at all in taking the jar of wine.]

If I hated baths, I wouldn’t bathe with you so much. More than one bath per day is just excessive, though.

[He takes a seat, crisscrossing his legs and planting the jar of alcohol in his lap. He makes quick work of opening it and chugging a few greedy mouthfuls, an errant droplet slips down his chin and throat starting from the corner of his mouth.]

Is it because you don’t like the way we smell and feel after sleeping together? I don’t mind it and I always feel so blissfully tired when you’re through with me that it feels like a waste of sleepiness to lose it. Does that make sense?

( For a moment, on instinct, he thinks to object to Wei Ying's speculation in a threadbare attempt to dismiss the possibility of hurt feelings. To discourage them. But then Wei Ying looks at ease, sat like a wise elder with his hoard of negligently imbibed wine, and Lan Wangji settles beside him, pretending not to notice when their knees brush.

He thinks, watching Wei Ying's lips with hunger, to kiss the print of wine off them. Settles, far too greedily, for dipping in to pass his tongue over the pearly droplets that slip down the pale column of his husband's throat. )

...sweet. ( The wine, perhaps. The water. Wei Ying himself. Then, an obedient large animal, he withdraws to linger knelt, patiently awaiting his lover's attention. )

I do not... enjoy stickiness. ( Somewhat bashful, apologetic. ) The scent of sweat.

( Who might have suspected Hanguang-Jun has the sensitivities of a maiden? )

[When Lan Zhan leans in, Wei Wuxian is expecting a kiss on the mouth. What he gets is just as good, though it leaves his lips wanting more. He follows Lan Zhan’s withdrawal, sitting close enough that their legs are touching again.]

And sex is sticky and sweaty. No wonder you like to bathe afterwards. Like I said, it doesn’t bother me. But if you don’t like the aftermath of sleeping together, we could always wait until after we love each other to take a bath. Oh, we’d probably smell like sweat while we’re doing it, huh?

[He takes another few sips of wine and considers offering some to Lan Zhan. No, he’s not sure what would happen if his drunk husband came across Jiang Cheng, or worse, Jin Ling. At best, he’d end up embarrassing himself and at worst, they’d be kicked out of Lotus Pier.]

I guess I can concede to taking a second bath sometimes, especially in the summer. Especially if Lan Zhan carries me back to bed when we’re finished.

Once before, once after.

( He's told Wei Ying so before. Bedding between them is a firmly established ritual, a matter of doubled ablutions and thorough exhaustion in between. Wei Ying so often concedes to him, grudgingly allowing Lan Wangji both the use of his body and total control of their bathing arrangements. He is grateful.

For now, that gratitude manifests as their knees knocking together, his hand chasing Wei Ying's to squeeze tenderly and draw into his lap. He does not look away, massaging the knuckles, kneading tender the palm. )

I know much of what I ask appears superfluous. ( Their bathing, their marriages, the calls to wear additional silken layers. The part and whole of Lan Wangji's exhaustive demands for how they must eat, sleep, breathe. ) Cloud Recesses is regimented. Perhaps... stiflingly so.

( For Wei Ying, if no one else. ) You miss Yunmeng.

[He makes a show of sighing, but he’s smiling anyway. His life isn’t made harder by taking two baths nearly every evening, so it’s not worth being bothered by it. If he’s honest with himself, he likes it when Lan Zhan pampers him after they sleep together.]

Okay, okay, we can keep doing two baths. Or one really long bath if the inspiration strikes.

[His eyes fall to their hands when Lan Zhan mentions Yunmeng. It takes him a couple moments to identify why he’s so reluctant to admit whether he misses Yunmeng or not.]

I miss Yunmeng from before the war. It’s different now. Until we came here, it felt like too much had changed. Or maybe I’m the one who changed too much. Either way, it’s somewhere I want to visit more, but it’s not home.

[Then again, Cloud Recesses isn’t home, either. No matter where they are, he’s home as long as they’re together. Right now, this little enclave is home.]

( Yunmeng... from before the war. And was it so different? Certainly, Lotus Pier was foremost struck by the need for reconstruction. It is known that Jiang Wanyin, whatever his countless other sins, struggled to raise the Jiang bloodline back to the ranks of an established sect. But Lan Wangji had never anticipated that the very bones of the cities would have come to ruin.

He looks beside himself, where only the cavern's mouth remains unhinged and open, and he knows of these grounds but that they must not have changed in generations. Wei Ying's nostalgia is safe here.

He finds himself reaching for Wei Ying's hands, for his husband's nape — drawing him down to recline on Lan Wangji's thigh, to rest his head gently bidden. Hello. )

I'm sorry. ( But he does not apologise. )

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