wuding | Date in Lotus Pier

[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. )

[He allows Lan Zhan to guide him down to rest on his lap, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. His intention hadn’t been to make Lan Zhan feel bad for him, but he likes being spoiled so he doesn’t stop him. He does roll onto his back so he can look up at his lover.

Now that he’s thinking about it, he realizes that he’s probably the one who changed more. Lotus Pier persevered even when people who’d lived through the war and heard stories of his exploits looked at him with uncertainty. And now that he has some amount of anonymity, it feels different still. It just doesn’t feel the same.

He lifts his hand up to touch Lan Zhan’s cheek, smiling in spite of the pangs of nostalgia. He could let himself get depressed by the changes, but he’d rather take comfort that he won’t feel homesick living in Cloud Recesses.]

You’re so handsome, Lan Zhan. I could stare at you all day long, but I’d rather kiss you.

[He grins, dragging his fingers down Lan Zhan’s cheek to touch his lips.]

I’m glad you came with me to Lotus Pier.

Where else might I have gone? ( Simple, breeze. Leaning into Wei Ying's touch to absorb his closeness, as if it is the most natural thing in the world. ) You were here.

( He knows, of course he knows: he might have withheld himself, might have simply opted against giving his husband chase to the end of Jiang Cheng's empire. A week's break would not have ruined them, for all parting still feels tenuous, bittersweet, somehow permanent. They are not yet at a point where, seeing Wei Ying's withdrawing back, Lan Wangji can still breathe.

Easing into their relaxed state, he lets his hand card through Wei Ying's hair, pushing it back and aside, constantly stroking. )

You sacrifice each day to stay beside me.

[His finger slides across Lan Zhan’s bottom lip before he moves his hand back to touching Lan Zhan’s face. It makes him happy to hear Lan Zhan answer his own question. They’re both like that, aren’t they? Orbiting one another is as natural as breathing.]

It’s not a sacrifice. Maybe it was at first, but it’s not like we had anywhere else to go. Cloud Recesses accepts me for who I am. I feel welcomed when I’m there.

[Even Lan Qiren welcomes him ever since the first time Lan Liang fell ill. He assumes that’s because the elder approved of the way he’d handled the matter. He doesn’t even mind following some of the rules when he’s in public and he appreciates that no one holds it against him when he does break the rules.

He pauses for a moment, then he starts laughing.]

I can’t believe I’m here in Lotus Pier and I feel homesick for Cloud Recesses!

( ...ah. Could it be that for all its hundreds of rules and restrictions, for all its dull and tepid environment, for all its numerous conditions... even Cloud Recesses can offer Wei Ying some degree of solace?

Truly, a development of maturity that should gladden both hearts, should leave Lan Wangji fond. Instead, he finds himself nodding along to accept its inevitability, with the air of a foregone conclusion. Throughout, he keeps stroking Wei Ying, keeps nurturing his lethargy while the song of water rippling and bubbling close by lulls them both nearer and nearer to stillness. )

Perhaps our next child will come from Lotus Pier. ( Something, he doesn't say, to remember Wei Ying's stomping grounds by. )

Would you enjoy so?

[Somehow, he feels at peace instead of fighting the urge to get up and find something to do. Being still doesn’t always come easily for him. There’s just something about the way Lan Zhan is stroking his hair and talking to him that promotes a lethargic mood.]

Our little girl.

[He isn’t picky about where the children they adopt hail from, but he likes the idea of having a girl from Yunmeng just the same. She could be a good sister like his own sister had been. They’re both men, but he thinks he’s ready to raise a girl. And maybe, if they’re lucky, she could become a cultivator to keep herself safe.]

I’d like that. We can teach her how to cook and to use a sword.

[He takes the hand Lan Zhan is using to stroke his hair and brings it to his mouth to kiss and nuzzle. He’s sorely tempted to take a long nap, but he knows the sun might burn his skin if he does. At least this little nook is shaded.]

Once we move to the new house, I can ask Jiang Cheng if there are any orphans who need parents.

( Ah, to accept Jiang Cheng's involvement in their family planning... somehow, his mouth purses, hand tense when it reaches for Wei Ying's forehead again, taking a moment to unbuckle his wetted hair from its tender ribbon.

He combs through it after, careful of the knotting that seems indelibly attracted to Mo Xuanyu's body. )

Shall we not let fate decide?

( A girl, a sister. Or perhaps a little brother. Of Lotus Pier, if they so please, but not presented to them as if meat at the market. )

Liang came to us unbidden. ( Perhaps that is the better way, letting the Heavens triage and control who joins their diminutive family. If there can be no creation from Wei Ying's lovely womb, this surely is the next best alternative. )

[He realizes his mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Lan Zhan seems to be taking it better than he’d expected. He nibbles at Lan Zhan’s fingertip gently before letting it go. Some of Lan Zhan’s habits must be rubbing off on him.]

Fate it is. We’ll have to spend more time in Lotus Pier.

[He had already said earlier that he’d like to visit Lotus Pier more often, and this would be a good reason to make it happen. Without a reason to travel, he’d likely forget to actually do it. Well, there’s also Sizhui who likes to volunteer going to Lotus Pier and Jinlintai to fill his heart.]

Our next kid doesn’t have to come from Lotus Pier, though. If we come across another lost child, it doesn’t matter that much where they came from. I’ll love them the same.

But we probably shouldn’t look too hard while we’re living in the jingshi.

[He wouldn’t call the jingshi cramped, per se, but it could become cramped if they fill it with another kid or two. Especially ones that can walk, or worse, climb.]

We but keep our eyes and hearts open.

( Whatever happens, happens. Whether a child joins them now or within the decade, once Wei Ying has better attended his core and Mo Xuanyu's constitution, and Lan Liang is firmer on his feet — who is to say? For his part, Lan Wangji is determined to seize immortality beside his lover. There is time. For them, there will always be time.

Whether their miracle arrives at Lotus Pier or elsewhere, what is the difference? They remain tried by the Heavens, resolutely facing whatever fortune throws before them.
Is this mere outing today, the decision of where to perform their next marriage, not the result of whimsy and fortune?

Too long have things been decided, often for them. Let there be change now. )

Will you eat and rest? ( Certainly, they've hardly exerted themselves, but Wei Ying has been running about in the heat, then rowing avidly. That may prove too ambitious for Mo Xuanyu's growing stamina. )

Then we’re of the same mind.

[It feels good to be on the same page. They’ll be passive in their search, for now, and see where fate takes them. It’s a relief. They’ve been reluctant about the idea of another adoption until recently, but it never sat right with him. He wouldn’t be able to say no to a child who needed them.]

I’ll do both if you give me a kiss, first. Here, I’ll make it easier for you.

[With that, he sits up and shuffles closer. Now he’s at an approachable distance and position. Strands of his loose hair fall over his shoulders. If it weren’t still wet, it would resemble the style that he’d worn back in Yiling.]

We don’t have to go back until sundown.

[He’d promised Sizhui as much, though he didn’t ask whether or not he planned to share babysitting duty with Jin Ling. If it were him and he was in love at that age, he would have turned it into a date under Lan Liang’s scrutiny. He figures if he doesn’t know about it, he won’t have to choose between lying or throwing the boys to the wolves. Plausible deniability.]

( Ah, this menace. His husband can be at times contained, at others predicted. More often than not, depended on. Rarely, but critically, delayed when he sets mind to purpose.

But he cannot be wholly stopped, and this is the hour of his want, the moment of their union. Quiet, private, pretty, stifling. No man can hope to break them apart, once their mouths meet, and Lan Wangji's lips walk his husband's, then Wei Ying's jaw, the column of his throat. Teeth graze, sink in, mark.

He pulls away, eyes molten and gaze heavy, and the moment strains dark and taut between them. )

...here? ( He knows what he asks. Wei Ying, also. They are courting the possibility of disaster and the probability of scratches and the certainty of wetness alongside them. So be it. )

[He knows what he’s doing by luring his husband in for more kissing. It is, after all, both of their favorite way to express their love for one another. Sleeping together is just shy of it, and usually comes once they’ve tasted each other’s lips for long enough.

He bares his throat when Lan Zhan brings his attention there, grinning and letting his hands wander across the planes of his husband’s chest. They’re flirting with wanting each other. He could pull away now, if he needs to, but without too much complaining.

But he doesn’t want to.]

We can lay down the towels first?

[If anything, it will be reminiscent of their first foray into outdoor love making. At least when they’re here, they don’t have to worry about someone walking in on their private activities.]

We can clean off in the water after. We can still have a proper bath later, if you want to.

[His wandering hands push up Lan Zhan’s chest and slip between his layers of silk. When he was younger, he really thought he’d enjoy breasts, but he finds that Lan Zhan’s muscular chest is so much better.]

You know all too well I shall.

( Of course his husband has dutifully made all the requisite preparations. This is the same impossibly brilliant mind who sculpted innovation out of signs and enchantments long known, who created a new form of cultivation. What is mere bedding to him?

And of course, too, that Lan Wangji is already disciplined in his submission, welcoming Wei Ying's touch, leaning into it. The heat of his core-warmed body is a simple furnace; Wei Ying's burns down the world.

Dreading to part them, he nevertheless pulls away and opens up the qiankun purse to retrieve a blanket and gently spread it over hard ground, so they might kneel and tumble upon it. They might be animalistic in their love-making, perhaps even predatory — but they are not base.

Task completed, wine jars and their oils inevitable companions, he draws Wei Ying onto the blankets beside him, so they might both linger knelt. )

What is your whim? ( To be taking rapidly, mercilessly, indefatigably? To be ruined? Or perhaps nostalgically worshipped, tenderly revered? )

[Parting, even for a handful of moments, is a test of his restraint. Somehow, he manages to let Lan Zhan go prepare the bank for their bedding. Just like before, he can’t take his eyes off of his husband, appreciating the way the silk clings to his skin where it’s still wet enough.]

I’d offer to help out, but then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the show. [One hand under his chin, he makes a few noises of approval as he surveys Lan Zhan’s progress. His eyes, however, continue to devour as much of Lan Zhan’s physique as he can see.] Nice. Very nice. I can tell your wife is a lucky man.

[He takes Lan Zhan’s hands when they’re offered and follows him enthusiastically to their blanket. They kneel together there and his hands can take over for his eyes as he continues to appreciate Lan Zhan’s arms and chest.]

Kiss me again and I’ll tell you.

[What would Lan Zhan like to do with him, he wonders. He cups Lan Zhan’s cheeks between his hands and looks into his eyes. Usually, they’re in a rush to love each other before Lan Liang wakes up or when they have to return to social functions promptly. It feels like this is a rare opportunity to take their time.]

( His wife, he needn't say as he toils, is a spoiled thing, basking. His wife is a creature of comforts now fleetingly denied that Lan Wangji attempts to recreate, before declaring the stage of their love-making set. He refuses to ask Wei Ying to do without.

And so when his husband makes for him, calls him close, draws his hands to bracket his cheeks — when they close in and their mouths meet and Lan Wangji bites in, ravenous, one arm fastening as a belt behind his lover — he doesn't. Can't, light moan crowning his incursion, the moment slipping between their fingertips, honeyed.

He is slow to pull back, never quite relinquishing. Holding strong and holding on. )

Well?

[It’s clear what kind of mood his husband’s in. The intensity of the kiss nearly has him swooning like an innocent maiden. He meets it hungrily, pressing his front against Lan Zhan’s. It’s almost like they’re back on the boat where they nearly delayed the swim they’re still, technically, delaying.

He drapes himself around Lan Zhan’s neck, answering the moan with one of his own. They’ve been on the verge of this since they left their sons after breakfast and it’s exciting that they’re finally able to love each other properly.]

I want you. [He licks his already moistened lips, enjoying the passion in his husband’s eyes.] I want to keep kissing you. [Facing each other will also keep his knees from hurting.] I’ll be your conquest. I want you to take me like you’re claiming a prize. You can do anything you want to me.

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