wuding | Date in Lotus Pier

Moaning and at ease.

( This, fast and unblinking, with the nonchalant air of a sinisterly veteran seducer of maidens and pretty young things, and not the stiff sobriety of Hanguang-Jun. Truly, will wonders never cease.

Yet, watching Wei Ying — only daring to inch a few arm strokes closer — he understands that his husband is keen to demonstrate his talents, for all he suspects Wei Ying's new body may no longer prove as adept at implementing the Yunmeng swimming style. No matter. He affords his lover a widening berth, taking umbrage in the shallows, so that Wei Ying might have sufficient space for his display.

Then, carefully: ) Leisure. As Wei Ying likely swam in his youth.

[They’ve been married for over two years, but Lan Zhan somehow manages to shock and embarrass him with just a few words. Somehow it’s the perfect mix of unexpected and sincere.]

Lan Zhan! It’s not fair. You always know how to get a reaction out of me now.

[But he’s not actually upset by it. It’s too funny for him to be bothered. Back when they were younger, he was the one who could always tease Lan Zhan with a straight face. Now, he doesn’t think he’d be any match for his husband. Lan Zhan’s just too good at keeping a neutral face.

He dips his head under the water just to cool his burning cheeks. He wouldn’t mind giving Lan Zhan exactly what he wants, but they don’t need to rush things. Surely, his husband won’t be satiated for too long.]

Leisure, huh? A lot of that is floating more than swimming. Here, what about this? [He takes the time to stretch out his arms and legs briefly. When he’s done, he looks at Lan Zhan for a moment before grinning and diving under the water. He stays underwater as he navigates his way to the deeper water near the fissure they’d come through before surfacing again.]

Did you get a good look? When we swim for fun, we can do whatever works best. I was always lean and tall, so my strokes were longer before. It feels like I have to work harder for the result I’m looking for.

( Leisure, says Wei Ying, and it's more beautiful than indolence has a right to be, in practice. He does not sprawl, but gracefully positions his body to float in perfectly coordinated, elegant repose. Lan Wangji is enraptured.

...Lan Wangji, he himself admits, is at times enraptured when he watches his husband breathe. But there are degrees to his worship, and now he feels at the peak of his reverence, soft-eyed and fond and finally crossing the water at a solid pace to reach his lover again.

Look, but don't touch. A hard prerogative, with the only inklings of strain visible in Wei Ying's body arising from clear rigidity, where Lan Wangji took advantage of him earlier. Now, he compensates, hands soft when they encircle Wei Ying's shoulders, when they pat down his flank and stop dangerously territorial underwater, on the roundness of his plump ass. )

My look could have been better.

[He swims closer to Lan Zhan, inviting him without words to hold him and he’s pleased that it’s exactly what Lan Zhan must have had on his mind, too. He likes being touched, especially when it’s Lan Zhan doing the touching.

His laughter is airy and amused as he looks at his husband. Their legs are still treading water despite their proximity to each other. Knees slide past knees and their hips bump close together suggestively.]

It seems like Lan-er-gege wants to do more than just look.

[His hands find purchase on Lan Zhan’s chest and shoulders, fingertips brushing across scarred skin there. He doesn’t mind, nor does he react to it. The only thing he does is hope that Lan Zhan isn’t feeling self-conscious about it today.]

Should I demonstrate it again for you?

[He hovers close, tilting his head in to brush the tip of his nose against Lan Zhan’s. They’re close enough to kiss like this, so he takes the extra step to press his lips against Lan Zhan’s. It’s just a short, teasing thing.]

Or maybe you have another idea of what we can do to pass the time.

( Look, but don't touch — again. And it's Wei Ying who withholds himself, who skillfully plays out the next steps of their dance, as if Lan Wangji is untrustworthy and feral and a beastly thing who must be restrained, contained, appeased.

Yes — and their mouths meet, sweet and clumsy — they can agree on that point. And yes, he will see it so, see himself back to discipline, return to his senses. After he finishes starting to walk Wei Ying back into the nearest wall of stone, pinning him between a literal and metaphorical point of hardness.

...ah, but give Lan Wangji time. )

Wei Ying is in no hurry?

[He follows Lan Zhan wherever he goes, staying close enough to touch and kiss until he feels the sun-heated stone against his back. A chipper little giggle takes over when he realizes that he’s been trapped. Not that he minds. They still have some time out here and as long as they’re having fun, he’s happy. Whether it’s swimming or being intimate, he’s happy as long as it’s with his Lan Zhan.]

No hurry here.

[He squeezes Lan Zhan’s shoulders lightly, his nails digging into uneven skin. Not deep enough to leave more than a few indentations. And then he closes the space between their mouths again. His kisses this time are open-mouthed and more hungry, but still well within his control.]

Pretty. The way the sun halos your face right now makes you look… softer. Yeah, you look good enough to eat.

[He’s forgotten all about the meal he hadn’t finished earlier, but he’d rather have something a bit more solid and firm in his mouth. Thinking about it has him licking his lips.]

We still have time before we have to go back…

( Good enough to eat, pronounces his husband, the consummate cannibal, ready to devour him whole. Kissing him as if Lan Wangji is a strange delicacy that has somehow so far avoided consumption and not a willful, lethal creature, the Hanguang-Jun of so many fears and woes.

They come together easily, greedily, their kiss deepening, his hands travelling up to Wei Ying's flank — pinning him against hard stone, keeping him in place. They always kiss too long, too breathlessly, too readily enamoured. As if they can't help themselves, as if Lan Wangji can ever hope to fill in the gaps in himself with the shape of his soulmate.

The wet of the waters is thankfully too tepid and warm to bother them as they lie still. He sighs, hands drifting to Wei Ying's cheeks, his shoulders. Kisses him again. Then, carefully: )

You won't bear to swim, after.

[They kiss until his lips feel bruised and all he wants is to keep going. He really can’t help himself when they have a moment alone to take advantage of. And sometimes, not even when they’re in public, much to their friends’ and families’ discomfort.

Whimpering slightly, he looks up at Lan Zhan’s eyes the moment he starts to move back. His mouth chases his husband’s hand to lick the palm. Eyes sparkling and mischievous as he thinks about how his drunk Lan Zhan behaved the first time he’d licked his palm.]

We could try to do it while we swim.

[Which probably wouldn’t work at all, now that he thinks about it. The thought of them clinging to each other while trying to float and sleep together amuses him, but it would be unbearably frustrating to actually try.]

Which would you rather have? [He turns his head to the side and catches a fingertip with his tongue.] You’d rather keep swimming than sleep with your husband?

Small>( There is nothing in this life that can compete with the dangerous, hungry allure of Wei Ying beset by purpose, Wei Ying attuned to his husband's needs. Wei Ying hunting him, a predator whose instincts were awakened and sharpened all those years ago in Yiling.

Now, Lan Wangji's finger, trapped in his husband's mouth, travels down to drag his lower lip and bare his fangs, hooking in — before he finally, despicably, pulls his hand away completely. A final kiss, then: )

How will you swim back to the boat when we leave?

( This is, they both know far too painfully, not rejection. This is not even the pretence of refusal. Only a practical consideration to be readily resolved — notably, only the one. )

[He tilts his head back to expose his throat, eyes never leaving Lan Zhan’s even as he leans in for that last kiss. He chooses not to chase Lan Zhan this once, wanting to hear what he has to say for himself. It all comes down to their foreplay. Sometimes it’s touch-based and others, it’s the games they play.]

You’re strong, Lan Zhan. If I’m too tired to swim afterwards, then you can throw an arm around me and carry me back to the boat.

[Now that he’s said it, he’s going to need to see it through. He likes playing damsel sometimes and Lan Zhan always looks so happy when he’s indulging him.]

Or I could float on my back and drift back to the boat. As long as I’m not wearing too much, it won’t take any energy at all.

[Though he doubts Lan Zhan’s will be willing to see him go into public without putting on at least his underwear and first layer regardless of the customary differences.

He doesn’t make a move, waiting until Lan Zhan comes to the same inevitable conclusion he has.]

( ...perhaps he might have stood a chance any day but this, when Wei Ying has only just shared his life, his love, the debris of his childhood. One last place that was his and his alone and is now theirs to honor.

Nodding faintly, mouth soft, he presses in for another kiss, one hand bracing to support Wei Ying's ass, to cushion his perch — the other flat on the wall behind him, bracketing in, as he comes close and closer to allow his husband to climb him with his legs. The water's just tepid enough to indulge them, the press of their bodies heated, faint. Lan Wangji drinks in his husband's pretty, pleasured exhalations.

Then, he bites into the side of Wei Ying's throat, a little bit mean, a little more fond. Teeth rake gently after, half warning and half soothing. )

You'll need to hold on. ( Pretty, painfully beautiful thing. His darling. )

[He’s all quiet sighs and soft moans as Lan Zhan worships him with his kisses. He curls one leg around Lan Zhan’s hips and then the other one. Between his husband and the rocks at his back, he feels securely held in place, which means he doesn’t have to worry about keeping himself afloat.]

I’ll hold onto you tight, Lan Zhan.

[It’s funny that he likes it when Lan Zhan bites him these days. It no longer makes him think of a dog. The dull pain of teeth digging into his throat mixes quite nicely with the sensation he gets every time they move together.

He wraps his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and tugs him close so they can kiss again. As soon as their lips touch, he sighs contentedly. If Lan Zhan decides he doesn’t want to sleep with him right away, as long as he kisses him for a little while, he could be happy. Maybe not as sexually satisfied, but still content and happy.]

I wish we could be like this all day, every day.

[But it’s probably better that they can’t. Too much of a good thing could hinder the novelty of their bed play.

His fingers dig through Lan Zhan’s hair draping down Lan Zhan’s back, scratching at the sensitive skin there as he scrambles for a good grip. Though he’s using his fingernails, he doesn’t dig in enough to mark Lan Zhan’s anymore than with mild pink scratches.]

( All day, every day. Every day means every day. Of course, since they've marri —

...oh. But he stills, suddenly arrested in place, seemingly stricken. Eyes bright and wide, and lashes burdened, and his head whirling with the reminder of what they had pledged but yet to deliver. In Wei Ying's little enclave, golden light seeps through every crevice, raining down on his face, painting him in majesty.

Lan Wangji kisses him once more, in parting, helpless to their attraction. Then the beauty before him dissolves in a blurr, and he sees far too little, blinking away his rigidity. And quietly, after: )

Marry me here. ( And another kiss, instantly apologetic. ) And again in three days.

( When the siks he has barely told Wei Ying to order can come in. He should wait until then. Finds, more fool he, that he cannot. ) I truly... must marry you now.

( His heart feels so full of adoration for Wei Ying, it may well burst. )

Lan Zhan?

[It’s alarming when his husband suddenly freezes in place. He’s seen Lan Zhan meditating and has caught him dissociating from time to time, but this is different. It’s excitement and it’s a contagious feeling. Even before Lan Zhan mentions marriage, he’s anticipating something good to come out of his husband’s mouth.

His eyes widen a bit at the question. He hopes this is different than when they were at the Ancestral Hall. He’d let his hopes get up then only to feel the disappointment of postponing it.]

You really mean it?

[He kisses him back, staying close and letting that tingle of joy trickle down his spine. Lan Zhan wants to marry him! No matter how many times they marry, it always feels just as exciting as the first time. Maybe there was a time when he needed the reassurance that another wedding would bring. These days, he’s more sure. He knows he’s loved and nothing’s going to change that.]

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, let me put some clothes on first. We can’t get married with one of us naked.

[He doesn’t try very hard to suppress his grin.]

Unless Lan Zhan wants to take off his robes to make things equal between us?

( And is it marriage? Merely an exchange of bows, wine and bites of rice, glances and joyous laughter. Merely the warmth of their hands joined, merely Lan Wangji entrapped in endless admiration.

He can't stop himself from staring even now, from nodding and reaching in to pass his mouth over Wei Ying's clumsily. It's as if, now that he has learned the shape and taste of his husband's kiss, he is addicted. As if he can never hope for better or different.

Pulling away, he passes his teeth over the lobe of Wei Ying's ear, grazing and rolling it, nearly biting in. Then, finally drifting away in the water, sending ripples to tease the horizon — he pats Wei Ying's flank, his ass. There, there. Proprietary. )

Cleanse yourself first. ( Perhaps a little vulgar, even for the two of them, to join in hasty matrimony with Lan Wangji's seed still clinging to his lover's thighs. ) Then take a robe.

( He has the decency to bracket Wei Ying in again, this time less to mark or bully him than simply to offer him balance as his lover must find his footing. There he is. )

[The way Lan Zhan is looking at him now has his heart beating joyously in his chest. The love pours from it and into him, filling his chest with warmth and butterflies. He smiles back, kissing as he’s kissed and watching when he isn’t. He’s not even disappointed when he’s told that he needs to clean up first. For once, he takes it seriously and starts to rinse himself right away.]

Lan Zhan! If we get married twice in Lotus Pier, we’ll need to marry twice in Cloud Recesses, too! It’s only fair.

[He uses Lan Zhan’s body as leverage, because it’s offered more than it being needed. Being in the water is as natural to him as walking on land. But it’s still nice to be treated like a damsel, so he doesn’t get uppity about it.

When he’s ready to move away from his husband, he steps in and hugs him first. He buries his face against Lan Zhan’s throat as he presses their bodies together far too briefly to be satisfying. He wants to feel his husband’s skin against his skin for a few moments.]

I love you, Lan Zhan. I know I’m saying it too early, but no one says I can’t say it more than once.

[With a last tight squeeze, he slips out of Lan Zhan’s arms and makes his way back over to their picnic area. It would be easy to grab his pants from nearby and they’d even be red, but he thinks wearing a single, easily removable layer would be sexier. In the end, he chooses a single dry layer from his qiankun pouch. It’s black because both of them wearing white would be too depressing. It’s a gossamer thin one that he picked specifically to seduce his husband. It will put the two of them on equal footing if Lan Zhan’s only wearing white pants.]

How do I look?

( It's a slow ascent; he bides Wei Ying his time. Then, at a timid step, he's carrying along the weight of the world or at least his own in waters dripping off his silks, gathering at his feet. Pooling on the tender shoreline, before he's rising, climbing, joining Wei Ying where their qiankun pouches lie.

He'd thought, stricken by belated modesty, to envelop himself in the shroud of a robe and approach their rites with decency. But then, he can still glimpse the pale expanse of Wei Ying's thighs, the alluring stretch of his legs, and his... bride has made no effort of shielding his collarbone. Lan Wangji's own appearance will do.

Within heartbeats, he's sinking down on both knees, waiting patiently for Wei Ying to assume his place beside him — until his gaze is summoned, and he must look his lover greedily, unapologetically over. A scrumptious meal. A beautiful morsel.

His mouth waters. )

Like Xi Shi. Like my soulmate.

[As soon as Lan Zhan looks at him, he spreads his arms wide and spins in a slow circle to make sure Lan Zhan can have a good look at him. When he gets his answer, there’s a bounce in his step as he walks to where Lan Zhan is already sitting and takes his place at his side, right where he belongs.]

You flatterer. It must be a sign from the heavens, because you look like my soulmate, too.

[He leans against Lan Zhan to enjoy a little more touch. With the way Lan Zhan’s been looking at him, he really can believe his beauty is legendary.]

Are you ready, Lan Zhan?

[He sits up straight again and takes in the place Lan Zhan chose for their ceremony. It’s a pretty view, though that could be said of any number of places here. They’re not facing the discarded food from their meal earlier, but he does think about it and regrets not finishing it anyway. He won’t let it tarnish the moment, so he focuses on something else instead. The way the silk clings to Lan Zhan’s skin.]

( A sign from the Heavens. He thinks, at times, it was the Heavens who brought them together, Wei Ying the only man to call his own. But the same powers divided them, and hewatches his lover absorb the light and laughter of the place beside him, watches Wei Ying make his home near him, exacerbating the heat.

In the end, the rites are simple. One by the other, they bring their hands together and ahead, and wilt down in a bow before them, to the Heavens of the enclave's cracked ceiling, to the Earth that holds them. A second bow, to the ancestors of moss and stone with murmurs of mute gratitude. Then, shifting imperceptibly, to Wei Ying, his lover, his muse, his shadow.

He waits on his husband to proceed with the same, the rituals learned by now, familiar. )

[His attention is drawn forward as he moves in tandem with Lan Zhan. His heart beats excitedly as he kowtows, each bow taken with gratitude for this second chance at a love he didn’t have the words for. That he gets to live loving his best friend and being loved by him always leaves him feeling grateful. Moments like these, more so.

They fold themselves over for the third time, taking the opportunity to honor the man he loves enough to live for. His salvation. His light. His current and future husband.

He reaches to the side to pick up his nearby quankun purse to make sure there’s still some rice that hasn’t been sitting out. When he finds it, he uncovers it and places it between the two of them. And Lan Zhan made sure they were close to the wine, too.]

Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, I would choose you every time in every lifetime.

( Every time, in every lifetime — and their bows fulfilled. Once, he might have thought the rites themselves would change his world, that he would finish them and find himself different. Throughout their countless marriages, that miracle has yet to pass. He remains unchanged, indiffferent to the act...

Always, until Wei Ying looks at him, just so. Until his husband's happiness alights them both. Until he dips in to lay out rice in one bowl, and fills out the very bottom of their cups with the remnants of Wei Ying's wine. After, one cup held to his bride, the second grasped — he twines their arms to attempt the nuptial toast. )

Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, Yiling patriarch. I would choose you above the world.

( And he leans in, carefully, to pass his lips over the wine and drink in. )

[His surprise at Lan Zhan’s declaration is quickly replaced by a softness. He’ll never be alone again -- well, not permanently alone. As long as they’re both breathing, they’ll return to one another no matter what lies in their future.

He grins sheepishly when only the lasts drops of wine fills their cups. Lan Zhan would benefit from the smaller volume, so he’s not going to complain. He lifts the second cup and follows Lan Zhan’s lead.]

I believe you, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m tired of living rough. You’ve spoiled me so thoroughly that I can’t imagine living without the comfort of Lan Zhan’s loving care.

[He waits until the moment feels right, some 30 heartbeats or so later when he finally tips his cup back. He feels good. Rejuvenated after loving his husband just a short time earlier.]

Lan Zhan, you make me feel whole.

( He is late to drink his fill, he suspects, shamelessly arrested in the face of the bead of wet — water or sweat — that cascades down Wei Ying's throat, drawing the eye, enraptured, to the sun-kissed column. To his collarbone, peering sharp and neat and pretty below. To the curve of Wei Ying's shoulder, yonder. His mouth all but sallivates.

At long last, more beast than man and decidedly uncontrollable, he tips back his own cup, the sharp burn of the alcohol a mean punishment. His body shivers with it, with the ache born in his gut, with the pleasant exhilaration of relief that follows.

Then, he sets the cup cleanly on the stone pedestal, picking the bowl of rice and untouched chopsticks and collecting a few glued grains to peddle by Wei Ying's pretty mouth. A bride is too shy to take the first bite alone, after all. )

You were ever whole. Only, at times, more brittle.

[He catches the way Lan Zhan’s looking at him and he shrugs to expose a bit more skin. Not enough to be obscene or detract from their ceremony, but enough to show more of his shoulder and chest than before. Back in his first body, he’d been so sure of his good looks, but he’s learned to treat this body the same. Lan Zhan’s attraction to it definitely helps.]

I just didn’t realize a piece was missing until my second life. You fill in all the spaces I hadn’t noticed needed filling and have made me stronger for it. Happier.

[He waits for Lan Zhan to present him with rice and closes his mouth over the chopsticks to make sure he gets every last grain. He takes the chopsticks and picks up a similarly sized bite of rice and offers it to Lan Zhan’s expecting mouth.]

Not so brittle, now. I feel like I could face anything at your side.

[He shifts again, letting his robe part enough to show his thigh. Everything important is more or less obscured (partially, because of the thinness of the silk) by the garment.]

( Obediently, he rounds his lips around the morsel presented to him, keen to entrap it, to taste the grains. Plain, blandly seasoned, nothing to speak of. A delightful tribute and foundation for their marriage days to come.

When they have their proper wedding feast, an escalation from the scant offerings of their elopement — they might enjoy a more ambitious fare. Not yet. Not just now. )

Perhaps even face Uncle?

( No truer challenge, no greater foe to Wei Ying's relaxed, at times utterly debauched nature. They've improved their relations, Lan Wangji likes to think — if not for their own sakes, then certainly for Lan Liang's.

Stealing the chopsticks again, he offers out a fresh morsel of sticky rice to Wei Ying. )

I'm so sorry, idk what happened to this notif!

You’re fine. I’m glad you’re okay!

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