wuding | Date in Lotus Pier

( It's a game, after, a learned pace: the push of Wei Ying's pretty cock in his hand, the pull of his body down in Lan Wangji's lap. The answering, powerful sway of Wangji's hips with momentum. The sing of their flesh, pleasure building in both, the harshness of their breaths.

He's barely hanging on. Can't much further. But he must, and he keeps himself in check only through small bites that leave, somehow, Wei Ying's skin still unmarked, because this is another line — his husband loathes dogs. And Lan Wangji cannot bear to occupy that station. )

Will you give me sons? ( After all, they both know even the lowest courtesan comes into rank once she bears her lord children. )

Why elevate a whore otherwise? ( Because Lan Wangji loves him, wholly and utterly. Because Wei Ying is worth every gesture and rank of prestige. )

[The little bites give him something he can focus on to last just a little bit longer. The way his skin comes alive under Lan Zhan’s teeth has him moving with his husband with renewed strength. If they keep it up for too long, he’ll be as exhausted as he usually is after more extensive bed play. Nothing can beat their last wedding night in terms of exertion, however.]

Sons, daughters, as many as you’d like. Maybe I’ll give you one in a few seasons from today.

[His legs are starting to shake under his weight every time he lifts himself up, but he’s tenacious and refuses to stop doing what feels so good for both of them. Still, he whimpers his frustrations and leans more heavily against Lan Zhan’s chest.]

You’re so amazing. So good. I knew there was kindness in you. Just look at how well you tend to a lowly whore.

[Being a servant isn’t something to be ashamed of, so why would being a whore be so shameful? No, his sexually depraved maiden isn’t going to balk at it, either.]

So good. Your hands make my skin feel hot. All I want is you.

( Ah, his husband's exhaustion begins to wrest control of him, and Wei Ying all but droops, as Lan Wangji briefly welcomes him with both arms willing. He draws him close, pushing him to grind down and absorb all of Lan Wangji's interest, as he plunges in with a hard drag of his cockhead to the core of his lover's depths.

He gives them both pause, restraining their movements with one arm around Wei Ying's waist and the second wrapping on his length, stroking him with earnest meanness and an eye to force out his climax from where it conceals itself. He hisses, kissing behind his husband's ear. Amazing, Wei Ying says. So good. )

You have me. Yet I am not enough. ( Wistful, almost, as if he cannot overcome the disappointment of not yet knowing Wei Ying's full satisfaction. How unfortunate. )

You insult your lord with your disinterest. You presume.

I am interested. You have all of me. I just ask for a small piece of your heart or mind. Please, ah! Like that. Just like that.

[He’s panting now, still trying to move with Lan Zhan but their new position keeps them bound together. His hips grind down against Lan Zhan’s and it doesn’t take long for the buzzing wisps of pleasure to build up and snowball into his release. He cries out Lan Zhan’s name and shudders as the sudden wave of intense pleasure washes over him.

He stops for a moment to catch his breath, fighting against the siren’s song of laying back against Lan Zhan and cuddling with him until it’s time for them to go back to their children. ]

Am I enough? Do you want more of me?

[He has to lift both arms up to hold onto Lan Zhan’s arm that’s still wrapped around his waist, hugging it close to his chest.]

I’ll be whatever you want me to be. I’m yours to play with whenever and however you like.

[It goes the same for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. He’s always told Lan Zhan that he’ll do anything he wants in bed outside of the few lines he’s drawn.]

Will always want more of you.

( He murmurs, and there is a moment when he is both the purported criminal assailing a beautiful prize and Wei Ying's doting husband, their truth universal and shared. There is no shame in it, in accepting Wei Ying, in wanting him close, in drawing him into the cavern of Lan Wangji's ribs, in kissing his temples. He is here, after all, to be taken, to be used, and the wet of his pleasure on Lan Wangji's hands is a privilege he does not deserve but still claims gladly.

Around him, Wei Ying's pleasure met, he feels the clench of his lover's flesh, feels the pull to keep him in, feels — alive only when he takes siege of Wei Ying's hips and pushes him down, letting Lan Wangji selfishly claim him for his own and chase his pleasure. His own climax is foregone, inevitable: his hips stutter, throat rusted, moan long.

Tensions snaps from his back, travels down. He releases in waves, biting onto Wei Ying's shoulder with all the passion he'd restrained moments prior. )

Say you won't leave. Say it.

I’ll give it. You can have everything. All of me.

[He squirms in Lan Zhan’s lap, keeping his hips in motion to entice his husband’s pleasure. It’s always a risk to keep going for too long because he tends to recover faster than Lan Zhan. He mutters sweet nothings about how handsome Lan Zhan is and how he loves it when they’re one like this. Lan Zhan doesn’t take long today to catch up to his peak and he slows his hips down to milk every last drop into himself.]

I won’t leave you. Not for anything.

[He takes a deep breath and lets himself relax as he exhales. However, he doesn’t get off of Lan Zhan’s lap. Decoupling is never as glamorous as coupling. At least they’re close to running water so Lan Zhan won’t have to feel bothered for long.]

Your side is the only place I want to be. I promise, I’m not going anywhere without you.

( An incremental descent, not without tremors. He comes back to himself in degrees, combative, teeth somehow chattering, the rest of his body left in feverish shakes. He might have been sickly, if he were not merely wholly, utterly in love.

And overwhelmed. This is Wei Ying's effect on him, the inevitable price to pay for their affection. Of late, he is so overcome and in awe of his husband's brilliance, that he stunned, moments after, by the privilege of partaking in it. His hands round around Wei Ying's waist, and he draws them both, Lan Wangji's back to the stone nook and his lover against him, strangely still unsaddled from his perch on Wangji's lap. Well deserved.

He kisses Wei Ying's temple, his nape, failing to pretend what still lingers of their part. His heartbeat's storming. )

...my heart feels too full.

[He brings Lan Zhan’s arm up once they’ve settled into their new position so he can kiss it as the easiest target to reach. It’s not enough so he strains his neck to ask for a kiss or two on his face. He feels utterly spent and entirely too comfortable on top of his husband. He’ll likely turn around once they part bodies.]

I feel like that around you, too.

[This is all him, now. There’s no trace of the oddly complicit maiden left in him. All he wants is sweet affection and a few moments to recover from their love making.]

I love you so much it feels like I’ll drown in it sometimes. Is that how you feel, too? When I was younger, I never thought about all the good things that come with being in love.

[He lifts his hands up to ask Lan Zhan, wordlessly, that he wants to be unbound. His wrists sting just a little bit and it might leave indentations or maybe even bruises that will fade over the next couple of days.]

( He can have this, a moment when Wei Ying is his and his alone, when Lan Wangji can bask in the indulgence of his husband's confessions. They love each other, and it is the truth and known, and it cannot be thieved from them.

Sometimes, Wei Ying alludes to this, to a youth when he thought their romance impossible. Worse still, unwanted. And it would be a better, stronger man than Lan Wangji, he who does not think ill of his lover's faithlessness on a handful of occasions.

He is not so strong. )

You should have. ( He murmurs, nosing behind Wei Ying's ear, nuzzling and breathing in his scent. ) But do you know better now?

Much better.

[He tilts his head to invite Lan Zhan nosing at his ear. Now that he knows what having a relationship with someone he loves is like, he knows better. Being alone just doesn’t cut it for him anymore.

Just like this position they’re in! He supposes now is as good of time as any to dismount Lan Zhan’s length. This way he can turn around and wrap his arms around his husband’s neck and drape himself across his body. He takes his turn to nose around Lan Zhan’s neck, sprinkling a few kisses along his throat.]

There’s still opportunity to make up for all our lost time.

[Like they’re doing now. It feels ridiculous how much better he feels when they’re together like this. If life were gentler, they’d spend every moment of every day in each other’s arms. Because it’s not possible, it makes him appreciate all the time they do have to spend together.]

What about you? Did you think falling in love with someone was something to strive for? Back when we were younger, I mean.

( Wei Ying decouples them, and there's the moment of inevitable disgrace when wetness spills between them, and they withdraw within themselves — only to come back together again, kissing avidly. Wei Ying belongs on him, weight firm, scent heady. Belongs reclaiming these binds of their marriage.

And so they meet, touch disdaining the possibility of disruption. Lan Wangji's arms fastening behind his lover's back to steady him. A slow balance. )

I thought of you. ( This much is known, painfully sincere, obvious. He has shamed himself often enough with the immutability of his feelings. ) I thought you did not desire me.

( Another long foregone conclusion. This is the trouble of unburying their past. So much of what Lan Wangji speaks now has been disproven. )

I did not dare think past it. A matrimony would have been presented to me, perhaps. ( If he failed to produce a love match in the way of his people. And were Wei Ying alive and well and cared for in Yiling, and still denying Lan Wangji's timid advances, he cannot say what he would have done before that proposal. )

We were both wrong when we were younger. It’s a good thing we wizened up, huh?

[They can’t change the past, but they can use its lessons to appreciate the present. He likes to think that they could have ended up together if he’d survived. If there were no war. If he hadn’t rescued the Wen remnants. If, if, if. But there’s a chance they would have both ended up alone, too. That Lan Zhan would have ended up in some political marriage and him living on without knowing what he was missing.

It makes him value what they have all the more.

He relaxes on top of Lan Zhan, though the heat is starting to feel uncomfortable again. His throat is parched and he really could drink a whole bottle of wine and still want more.]

I don’t like thinking about you married off to some woman. You would have been less happy than you are with me and I don’t want to think of you unhappy.

I do not... believe I could fathom interests of feminine persuasion.

( Whispered, somehow muted, as Wei Ying settles again in his lap, as he drapes over Lan Wangji and steals both their comfort to the inevitable benefit of their mutual adoration. Lan Wangji's hands, sticky with heat, land on his back, his spine, in careless strokes.

He speaks a truth he has long suspected that the clan refuses to admit: that his natural inclinations lean overwhelmingly toward, if not men, then one man with certainty — though Lan Wangji is not so great a fool that he will deny having, on occasion, spied and understood the beauty of other silhouettes, even without feeling the impulse to act on his eyes' attraction. That Wei Ying commands his attention wholly and indiscriminately is not to take away from these other men.

A pause, then the inevitable correction: )

Perhaps if it were your body.

[It’s a good thing that he came back in the body of a man. For both of them. He wouldn’t have the first idea of what to do if he were suddenly inhabiting the body of a woman. Flirting with Lan Zhan would be an uphill battle, but he’d probably still do his best to get a rise out of him. If he were a pretty woman, he’d probably use his looks and charm to get people to give him gifts and do favors.]

I know I’ve said it before, but I’m glad Mo Xuanyu’s body is that of an attractive enough young man.

[He lifts his head up and grins at Lan Zhan. How lucky for them both. For Lan Zhan, it means he can be with someone he’s physically and mentally attracted to and for Wei Wuxian it means he gets to feel sexy and desired by the man he loves. Not to mention he gets to be free from dealing with the weirder aspects of a female body. There’s no way he’d be able to handle moon cycles.]

I’m thirsty.

[He kisses Lan Zhan’s mouth a couple times. They would do well to finish their swim, too. They’re absolutely drenched in sweat, sticky where it’s drying and slick where it hasn’t.]

Let’s get some watermelon when we go back. For now, there’s wine!

[Which isn’t going to be too soon, he hopes. He’s enjoying their little date.]

( Thirsty, says Wei Ying, and instinctively Lan Wangji stirs to satisfy the base requirement, as if his husband is no better than a child who cannot attend his own needs. In truth, he is often lacking in the patience or organization or discipline to do so, and lo, Lan Wangji intervenes then —

But he abstains now, careful to allow his husband to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, before joining his hands at Wei Ying's back to prevent him from toppling over when Lan Wangji dips him in play. Then, just as Wei Ying's hair is about to wash over the blanketed grounds, Lan Wangji nods steadily at the gravid qiankun purse beside him. Wine, he needn't say, and water. Only, of course Wei Ying knows already.

Mouth cleaved in silent laughter, he releases his husband, nodding toward their wares, then the waters in wait. )

Will you detest a round of ablutions even here? ( So often Wei Ying is bored with baths after their love-making, but the muggy heat of Yunmeng might incentivize even him. )

[His laughter is anything but silent as Lan Zhan swings him about. He barely holds on, trusting that Lan Zhan has everything under control and that there’s no danger of him falling. He likes when Lan Zhan shows his more playful nature and he gives himself a lot of credit in getting his husband to relax. Though, maybe there’s something about Lotus Pier that encourages a little fun. The lack of codified rules helps.]

Won’t swimming clean us off or are you wanting to use oils too?

[He pulls himself upright again, one arm loosely hanging around Lan Zhan’s shoulders while the other makes a grab for the qiankun purse. As much as he wants wine, he reaches for the water first because Lan Zhan is likely feeling just as parched as he is.]

You should drink something. I’ve seen people faint from weather like this. It’s worse for kids and the servants who never formed a golden core, but you look drenched and I know it’s mostly sweat at this point.

[Just like with cold temperatures, Lan Zhan’s golden core should protect him from some of the effects. But Lan Zhan’s is accustomed to the mild summers of Gusu which has heat waves that get about as hot as today’s typical late spring weather in Yunmeng.

He picks up his own cup and throws the water back like he would drinking wine. One cup, two, three. Maybe he should be more worried about himself than Lan Zhan considering his body isn’t nearly as accustomed to the heat as his old one had been.

After putting the small cup down, he grabs the jug of wine and opens it. There’s no need for a cup for this, so he lifts up the whole jug and drinks greedily straight from it. A small trickle of wine tickles his jaw and neck, but he pays it no mind.]

( ...his husband, it emerges not for the first and surely never last time, drinks as children and wild things do, half the content of his jar slipping delightedly down the pale column of his neck, mixing with beads of swear. Lan Wangji's mouth feels parched, for the first true time this day, and he leans in with vicious intent to lick at a droplet of the water that succumbs down the roundness of his lover's bared shoulder.

There, he has done as Wei Ying instructed. He looks up, mouth lightly ajar, lower lip parted, wanting, waiting. Licking, smacking. In the end, carefully: )

Give me drink. ( From the cup. From Wei Ying's own mouth. It does not matter. He is — consumed by the possibility, the simple desire to be the one attended for a mere moment. To be indulged. )

[He giggles and squirms when Lan Zhan tastes the water from his skin and surprises him. His focus has been on his drinks, but he’s more than happy to pay attention to his husband instead. His poor Lan Zhan is thirsty too and here he is hogging all there is to drink.]

Lan Zhan, you’re so patient with your wife when he forgets his duty. Here, let me pour you some water.

[And he does pour the first of what he assumes will be many cups of water. He lifts the little cup to Lan Zhan’s mouth and holds the cup for him while he drinks. It makes him happy to be of service, even when it’s just little things like this. It’s almost better than being the one spoiled. When the cup is emptied, he refills it.]

Want more?

[He touches Lan Zhan’s cheek with his empty hand and grins at him. Lan Zhan doesn’t often want to be doted on so expressly and it makes him want to take advantage of the mood.]

I like it when you’re like this. You’re so adorable, Lan Zhan. Want me to do something more?

( He does, in truth, want more — and concedes to refills, only stopping after the third cup. It only third bowls are permitted, surely the same creed applies here. Even outside of Cloud Recesses, some precepts are inexorable.

Nodding along his thanks, he waves away the cup once he is done, allowing Wei Ying to complete the act as if he is a sophisticated courtesan, and now Lan Wangji's own husband, repeatedly wedded and enthusiastically bedded. For all this, he is happy that the world of the Lanling Jin never came to be, that Wei Ying was no one's war prize, taught some concessions and humility. He suits the sparkle of his playfulness, the joy of his defiance.

Lan Wangji's fingers braid with his lover's, and he draws the nearest hand to his mouth, to kiss his sweet knuckles. )

Will you catch me fish and cook my midday meal? ( His husband, the Yunmeng provider. ) Wrestle a great shark?

[Smiling, he wipes an imaginary droplet from Lan Zhan’s bottom lip when his hand is drawn near. The wine he’s drinking sits warm and pleasant in his stomach, but the thought of fresh grilled fish makes his mouth water anyway.]

Anything for my beloved. If you want a fish, I’ll catch you the fattest fish around!

[He’s revitalized by the idea of fishing for Lan Zhan. It’s not often that he gets to be the provider between the two of them and the novelty makes it all the more fun. Though he does wonder if Lan Zhan will actually eat the fish or if it’s his way to make sure Wei Wuxian will get something to eat before their evening meal.]

We’ll need to find some dry wood and kindling if you want it grilled, though. You can look for some while I catch the fish unless we have something else we can use?

[He leans in and kisses the side of Lan Zhan’s mouth before moving back and grinning again. First thing’s first, they need to rinse off and get dressed.]

( ...truly, few things seem to inspire Wei Ying more than caretaking. It is just so with Lan Liang, also: the smallest sound, the most threadbare coo, and Wei Ying darts on over, neglecting his own hurts and fatigue or disgruntlments of the day.

Now that Lan Wangji has articulated a wish, it must be done, and Wei Ying must see it through. Quickly, appears to be his prerogative, lest Lan Wangji should retract his desires, or worst still — provide for himself.

He intends to do nothing to steal his husband's joy and purpose. Instead, obediently, he follows down to the periphery of the shoreline of their nook, where stone kisses and sinks into water, and he finally descends in to rinse himself of the stickiness of their love-making. A pity that an act so thoroughly satisfying can be so mundanely inconvenient in its aftermath.

Collecting himself after, he returns Wei Ying's kiss, then: ) As my husband does so much of the work, I must attend to the grilling and cooking.

[It’s such a shame to put his clothes back on, but he does it anyway. At least the trousers he wears under his robes. The rest, he’ll put back on when they return to their boat. It’s not like Lan Zhan will get jealous of people looking at him when they’re in this private little area.]

I’ll leave you to it. [After another quick kiss, anyway.] I like Lan Zhan’s cooking. You really are good at everything, aren’t you?

[He wades back into the water until it’s up to his knees and starts searching the area for fish. They’re all over the place in the lakes, but they get spooked when there’s disturbances in the water. The trick is to be still and quiet, which he does have the capacity for when it’s needed.

He ignores the smaller fish and waits for some of the larger ones to show up. Just when he’s getting ready to try moving deeper into the water, a meaty-looking fish catches his eye. Bending his knees, he puts himself in a ready position for when the fish comes close enough to him. As soon as it does, he moves quickly and snatches the poor doomed creature in two hands and he lifts it out of the water in triumph.]

Got one!

[It thrashes about as he wades his way back up the bank. He talks to the fish on his way, telling it that it’s going to be delicious once Lan Zhan cooks it up.]

Should I catch another one? This one’s pretty fat.

( A disciple of all trades and the master of none. At the very least, even Lan Wangji can take command of a stable territory and prop up enough flame talismans to inject qi and awaken a decent flame. The branches needed to set up a skewer are harder finds, but helped by the local fauna.

He's in fine form by the time Wei Ying returns with his prey, a fine, fat and most promising fish that trashes helplessly in his hand and will surely make someone, somewhere an exquisite meal —

...until its sad, beady eye locks in on Lan Wangji's. Until Lan Wangji, tragically knelt like the very picture of humility, stares back. Until whatever plea the fish submits telepathically is painstakingly reviewed, Lan Wangji's mouth quivering, and he murmurs: )

I'm... not hungry enough to eat it. ( Not a lie. Far from the truth. But really, can the likes of Hanguang-Jun be expected to tolerate this slaughter? )

Not hungry enough? But you were the one who wanted fish!

[But that look on Lan Zhan’s face catches his attention and tells him all he needs to know about the situation. He looks down at the fish squirming in his grasp and turns to toss it back into the water. He doesn’t have a problem with killing animals for food, but he knows Lan Zhan has a softer heart for things like that.]

I guess it’s that fish’s lucky day.

[It’s endearing, so he’s not annoyed at losing out on grilled fish. His stomach, however, chooses that point to gurgle out its disappointment. He laughs in response and grabs for the qiankun pouch to check for food they can eat instead. There’s not much there besides the leftover rice and a few pieces of dried meat.]

Guess we’ll need to get some food when we go back to the market.

[Grinning, he nudges at Lan Zhan lightly.]

No one would believe you’re such a bleeding heart for delicious animals. Don’t worry, Lan Zhan, your secret’s safe with me!

( It's sweet, how Wei Ying yields to him, not sighing, not begrudging him, not rightfully pointing out Lan Wangji made his request mere moments prior — but surrendering the fish so casually in the water that Wangji might nearly forget the effort it takes to capture it.

He's grateful, when Wei Ying rejoins him. Inevitably guilty, when his husband's stomach reminds both of them that feeding is a necessity, more than a whim. Then, joining his lover at the side of their qiankun pouch, he begins to slip all of the meat and vegetables in a bowl, with most of the rice beside it — nudging the meal toward his pretty wife. )

...eat. I've been selfish. ( No matter the fragility of his stomach, the truth of Wei Ying's hunger remains. Lan Wangji is the one who has failed to provide — who has even intervened when Wei Ying looked to provide for himself. )

I'm to blame.

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