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Chapter Text

It was a slow Sunday evening, the rain drizzling steadily down. Wei Wuxian made the rounds of the remaining customers in the wine shop, chatting idly as he wiped the tables and flipped unused chairs upside down, closing out a few of the tabs that remained open, making change from the bills in the pocket of his apron. He did the math in his head, rounding numbers, quick to call it even when the amount was in the customer’s favor. Jiang Cheng had said the shop wouldn’t last a month if he conducted business like that. But a couple years in, they were… well, if not exactly thriving—it was a dusty old wine shop in one of the less developed, older, tucked-away parts of the city, after all—they were at least established with a reputation for Wei Wuxian’s way of doing business, all fairness and friendliness, with loyal customers who kept the meals and wine flowing even on the coldest, wettest, slowest Sunday nights.

“One more,” Wei Wuxian said tonight, perching on the edge of the table. He poured two cups to the brim. “On the house.”

Fourth Uncle Wen grinned, exchanging toasts before they each tossed back the home-brewed wine. Wei Wuxian rolled it around on his tongue, savoring the taste, the strong burn as he swallowed.

“Your finest batch yet, Si-shu,” Wei Wuxian declared.

“No, no, no,” Fourth Uncle argued. “Still needs a bit of…” He smacked his tongue, deliberating. Wei Wuxian poured him another cup, letting him assess it with a connoisseur’s eye. He rattled off various ingredients, arguing with himself, Wei Wuxian replenishing his cup as needed and enjoying the one-sided debate until the older man finally called a halt, waving an emphatic hand in his face. “No more, no more. I’ll bring you the new batch next week, then we’ll see which is best.”

“Deal,” Wei Wuxian said, knowing that anything Fourth Uncle brought him would outsell the pricier, fancier, imported rice wines. The man had a reputation and a knack, and it was largely his presence in the neighborhood that kept the doors open and seats filled, and the little shop solvent.

Wen Ning appeared as if on cue, a portion of the night’s menu packaged to go. Wei Wuxian enjoyed that too, the little habits that marked the end of each day. Wen Ning always sent food home with his uncle; Fourth Uncle was nearly always the last to leave the shop. Once he had ushered out the last straggler, they’d sweep the floors and wipe the tables, complete the list of chores, then lock up. If they didn’t leave the place spotless, Wei Wuxian’s phone would be ringing at the crack of dawn, Granny Wen on the other end scolding him as she pottered around the kitchen making the day’s batch of dumplings.

Waving goodbye to Fourth Uncle, Wei Wuxian reminded Wen Ning of this, another evening ritual, nagging him to sweep the corners.

“Uhh,” Wen Ning said, darting a look back at the furthest of said corners. “But—but what do we do about him?”

Wei Wuxian looked, and blinked, and looked again, and stared.

An elegant white sleeve was draped across the table, a dark head face down beside it. Not moving.

“What the fuck!” Wei Wuxian said.

He knocked into a chair, rushing over. Wen Ning scurried in his wake. “He’s been like this since…”

“Since when?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“Uh, Xian-ge, you were busy! You didn’t see? I thought you saw.”

No, Wei Wuxian had very much not seen his favorite patron passing out face down in his establishment. The table was tucked away out of sight in the L-shaped nook of the room, but still. “I didn’t even see him come in!”

“But he always comes in,” Wen Ning pointed out reasonably.

True. Wei Wuxian’s favorite, most elegant, most loyal patron, who appeared at least five nights out of seven, regular as a clock, at a wine shop when the man didn’t even drink.

Well, tonight notwithstanding, apparently.

Wei Wuxian shook the white-clad shoulder. “Lan Zhan?”

Nothing.

“Lan Zhan.” He shook harder.

Lan Wangji’s head lolled to one side, then lolled back, like it was magnetized to the table.

“Lan Zhan!” Panic was setting in. Wei Wuxian fished his hand in Lan Wangji’s collar to check for a pulse, which was—quite fast and strong, actually. Wei Wuxian sagged in relief. “He’s not dead. I think he must be… asleep?”

Wen Ning nodded. “That’s what happened. He drank the wine, then fell asleep.”

Wei Wuxian whirled to face him. “He what?”

“He… he drank?” Wen Ning stammered, the word coming out like a question.

“Wine?” Wei Wuxian clarified.

“Uh-huh. Wine. The batch from Si-shu that all of you were…”

“Who gave it to him?”

“I… I did?”

“Why!”

“He ordered it!” Wen Ning wrung his hands in distress. “Xian-ge, he told me to. He said…”

“When! Where was I?!”

“Xian-ge, you and—and Qingyang-jie…”

Wei Wuxian covered his face with his palm. Of course. The one part of the evening when he’d been distracted enough to not even notice his favorite customer come in, much less notice… He sighed. “When I was talking with Mianmian?” he said.

Wen Ning nodded emphatically. “Exactly! Xian-ge, you were busy with Qingyang-jie, and Lan-xiong came in, and…”

Wei Wuxian drew out a chair, taking a seat beside the unconscious Lan Wangji. “Was he upset when he came in? Weird? Out of sorts?”

“Uhhh.” Wen Ning frowned, thinking. “He looked… he looked like always.”

“Angry? Ice cold? So hot the butter melted?”

“A—angry,” Wen Ning conceded. “But just… his normal face. Not really angry, or… just normal, Xian-ge.”

Wei Wuxian sighed, contemplating the dilemma before him. The lifeless, pretty, interesting dilemma before him. “I can’t believe I missed it,” he pouted, poking Lan Wangji’s cheek experimentally, with no response. “Do you know how many years I’ve tried to get him to drink with me, A-Ning? Years! Then I turn my back for one second and…” He gestured at the scene before him. “It’s like he doesn’t even care about me. I thought we were friends.”

“Xian… Xian-ge.” Wen Ning shifted uncertainly. “What do we do?”

Wei Wuxian propped his cheek in his hand, tapping his finger. He jostled Lan Wangji’s shoulder again, just to check—still nothing. “You go on,” he decided, addressing Wen Ning. “Finish up the kitchen, then go home. I’ll stay ’til he wakes up.”

“But…”

“It can’t be long, right? He didn’t even drink the whole jar.” Wei Wuxian did that for him, downing the rest of the wine that hadn’t filled Lan Wangji’s cup. “He’ll wake up soon, and I’ll send him home, ’kay?”

“But…”

Wei Wuxian got to his feet, taking Wen Ning by the elbow. “Come on, don’t let Popo chew us out in the morning.”

“If you say so…” Wen Ning frowned.

“I say so.”

Wei Wuxian picked up the rag he had dropped, rinsing it out in the sink to wipe down the bar. He shooed Wen Ning off.

“It’s no problem. I’ve got this,” he insisted again.

Wen Ning nodded, finally disappearing into the kitchen.

Wei Wuxian wiped down the length of the bar, making sure to not miss a spot, then leaned his elbows on it, looking at his problem in the corner.

“I’ve got this,” he said again, and the thing was, he believed it.

It started off well enough. Wen Ning shut down the kitchen, bid him goodnight, and with one last doubtful look over his shoulder, left Wei Wuxian alone with Lan Wangji still dead asleep in the corner.

Alone, all alone, with Lan Wangji, who could not hold his liquor…

Now that the alarm had subsided, glee was setting in. Wei Wuxian felt downright giddy, picturing in detail and with pleasure all the ways he was never, ever, ever going to let Lan Wangji live this down. It got him through the rest of his chores, even the boring parts that usually made him balk. He even invented a few more chores, thoroughly cleaning the tea press as he waited for the water to boil. It gave his fidgety hands something to do, hands that were itching to get back to Lan Wangji, poke him and tease him and rile him awake, to get a head start on the mockery that Wei Wuxian was going to assail him with for the rest of their lives.

“One drink, Lan Zhan. One drink and you passed out,” he said out loud, since the silence begged to be filled, and conversing with an unconscious Lan Wangji wasn’t all that different from conversing with Lan Wangji awake.

Well… that wasn’t true. A conscious Lan Wangji meant myriad and infinitesimal expressions that Wei Wuxian studied like an adept, a wealth of information in his gaze that zeroed in on Wei Wuxian with disturbing focus. Wei Wuxian missed it, receiving the full force of that attention. Could you miss someone while they were in the same room? He decided you could. He missed reading every flicker and twitch and expressive silence until it was a language all its own.

But volume-wise it was familiar, at least, and Wei Wuxian found himself chatting through a one-sided conversation, recounting his day, asking questions that went unanswered, narrating his actions to keep Lan Wangji apprised of his progress. He cooled the water to the right temperature, prepared the tea leaves, steeped them exactly to the minute that Lan Wangji preferred. It was an art all its own, how Lan Wangji liked his tea. Wei Wuxian might not remember half the faces in his shop, or how to cook congee without scorching the pan, but as soon as something proved enough of a challenge for his brain to latch onto, he devoted himself to mastering it, etched in his mind for eternity.

“Just the way you like it,” he said now, proudly setting the small tray of tea things before the prostrate Lan Wangji. He took the seat beside him again, showing off a bit as he strained the leaves, then decanted the tea, then poured from the porcelain pot into the cup with delicate precision. He wafted it in Lan Wangji’s direction.

“Mmmm!” Wei Wuxian said, inhaling. “Your favorite. Look, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji, of course, liked his tea brewed so mildly that it was several shades lighter than the color of his eyes. The aroma was pleasant but faint, not like the bracing scent of strong liquor. Wei Wuxian wafted the cup at him anyway, because surely Lan Wangji’s senses were refined enough to detect his favorite tea on the spot.

“Wah,” he said finally, when this method had no effect. “Lan Zhan, you’re not giving me face. Wake up and appreciate this tea.”

No response.

Wei Wuxian slid closer, inspecting the invisible pores on the side of Lan Wangji’s nose. He wanted to reach out and tap it, so he did, which made him lightheaded at the freedom he would never be granted if Lan Wangji were awake.

“Lan Zha-aan,” he crooned softly. “Lan-er-gege? Wake up.”

He poked Lan Wangji’s cheek, soft and pale as the dough Granny Wen used to make dumplings. This time Lan Wangji’s head tipped sideways and stayed there, cheek stuck to the hard lacquered wood, for all the world like he’d simply dozed off on a pillow.

Wei Wuxian scooted the ineffective tea away. He laid his own head down on his arm, pillowed on the table, facing Lan Wangji. It was another giddy freedom, his stomach fluttering at the audacity of it. He was close enough to breathe Lan Wangji’s scent, to count his eyelashes. He’d never been this close for this long before—Lan Wangji always retreated, or tensed up, or knocked him away. Less of the latter, lately. Wei Wuxian almost missed it, the more physical reactions he used to elicit, intruding on Lan Wangji’s space. He wondered sometimes what he could do to make Lan Wangji really snap, to call his bluff. Lan Wangji seemed like the type who would—all impeccable manners and restraint until pushed past some as-yet undiscovered limit. Wei Wuxian selfishly wanted to be the one who discovered it, to plant a flag in that territory that said Wei Wuxian was here.

He blew a breath across Lan Wangji’s lashes. “Oh, Lan Zhan,” he said, a hushed sing-song. “Gege, wake up and fight me. You know you want to.”

With his thumb, he brushed Lan Wangji’s lips, soft as the dough of his cheek and much pinker. If anything was going to rile the frigid, virginal Lan Wangji out of his stupor, it would be this kind of assault. Wei Wuxian leaned closer, pressing Lan Wangji’s bottom lip, mushing it to and fro with his finger. He was completely caught up in this, absorbed with the novelty of it, when teeth suddenly flashed, chomping down on his skin.

“Owww!!!” Wei Wuxian yelped.

He jerked his hand. The bite sharpened. Lan Wangji sat upright, Wei Wuxian’s finger caught firmly in his teeth, nearly up to the second knuckle.

“What are you, a dog?!! Owww!!”

The bite sharpened again, and then Lan Wangji seemed to come to his senses. He eased up, and after a moment, allowed Wei Wuxian to extract his finger.

Incensed, Wei Wuxian shook off the worst of the pain, then cradled his hand against his chest.

“What’s gotten into you?!” he said. “One little drink, and you’re like this? Lan Zhan, you hurt me!”

A flicker crossed Lan Wangji’s face that might be contrition. Or it might be stubborn satisfaction. Before he could work out which, Wei Wuxian remembered that he had better things to do. Eagerly, he sat forward.

“Lan Zhan, are you drunk?” he asked.

“No,” Lan Wangji answered.

Wei Wuxian eyed him, skeptical. “Hmm. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Lan Wangji tracked Wei Wuxian’s hand back and forth several times before he reached out and grabbed it. Startled, Wei Wuxian shook him off before his grip could tighten.

“No more biting,” he commanded. “Look, you left dents! I’m very delicate. I’ll bruise.”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji said after a moment, a monosyllable that definitely didn’t sound like contrition.

Wei Wuxian eyed him skeptically again. He looked as pristine as usual. There was a faint red mark on his cheek from being stuck against the table, but not one hair was out of place. He wasn’t flushed from the wine, his posture was as perfect as ever, his face solemn and composed. There wasn’t even drool on the table, which was unfair in the scheme of things. But something was off, some ripple beneath the surface that raised goosebumps of excitement across Wei Wuxian’s skin.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, you were really rude,” he remarked casually, changing tack. The small cup of tea was meant to be drunk immediately; it would be the wrong temperature now. He turned over a new cup, performing the ritual again, the fresh tea gently steaming. “I was so nice, I made this for you, then you wouldn’t even wake up and drink it.” He slid the cup in front of Lan Wangji. “Look what you missed.”

Lan Wangji looked.

Wei Wuxian nudged the cup closer. “Drink,” he prompted.

Obligingly, Lan Wangji lifted the cup and elegantly swallowed it down.

Wei Wuxian squirmed with delight at this display of obedience. Jiang Cheng, when he was drunk, only grew more belligerent, refusing to do anything Wei Wuxian wanted, no matter what it was. Nie Huaisang was a happy drunk, sloppy and affectionate. In fact, Wei Wuxian, running the wine shop, felt that by now he’d seen every type possible, but never one like Lan Wangji, quiet, direct, obedient, and… a biter.

He got a shiver again and suppressed it, refilling the cup of tea.

“Drink,” he suggested again.

Lan Wangji obeyed him again. Wei Wuxian had spilled a drop that time, down the outside of the cup, and it rolled down Lan Wangji’s chin.

Wei Wuxian reached out and swiped it up, then couldn’t resist giving his cheek a little pinch. “Good boy. Don’t you feel better?” He propped his head in his hand, surveying Lan Wangji as Lan Wangji’s gaze fixed on him darkly. “Why don’t we play a game, huh? Have some fun?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said and stood up.

“Huh? Wait! What? Where are you going?!”

Lan Wangji had made it halfway across the room, his speed belying his recent state of total inertia. Wei Wuxian, who’d jumped up after him, caught up, grabbing his arm.

“Where are you going?” he asked again.

“To play,” Lan Wangji answered.

Wei Wuxian had to stifle a burst of laughter. He would have forced Lan Wangji to drink years ago if he knew he’d be like this. “Okay, well,” he said. “I meant, let’s play a game where I ask questions and you answer. Like… ‘What’s your favorite color, Lan Zhan? Do you like baby animals? Have you ever eaten so much ice cream you threw up? Do you want kids one day? If so, how many? Would you ever get a tattoo?’ That sort of thing.”

“Red,” Lan Wangji said. “Yes. No. Yes. More than one. Yes.”

Wei Wuxian blinked several times as his brain caught up, then took several moments more to parse Lan Wangji’s answers, unsure which shocked him the most. “You’d get a tattoo?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“Where? Tattoo of what? Where on your body?? Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji said, “That is to be determined,” and slipped out of his grip.

Wei Wuxian trailed after him into the kitchen. “Hold up. I’ve got a lot more questions. You can’t just drop that kind of knowledge on me and walk off.”

Lan Wangji turned to face him, a little crease in his brow. He said, “My turn.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “That’s fair, I guess. Okay. Fire away.”

The crease deepened. Lan Wangji stated, clearly and emphatically, “My. Turn.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m waiting. Ask me whatever you want.”

The crease became a full frown. Wei Wuxian tipped his head at him, then slowly caught up again.

“…Wait. Your turn for what?”

“To hide,” Lan Wangji said, as if this were obvious.

“To hide,” Wei Wuxian said slowly. “Because we’re…?”

“Playing,” Lan Wangji finished for him.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t hold it in. The laughter overtook him, peals of laughter that made him bend over, clutching his belly. When he could breathe again, he said, “Gege, how old are you? I’m not playing hide and seek with you.”

Lan Wangji, who seemed unsure how to take Wei Wuxian’s reaction, now let his face fall. He looked so forlorn that Wei Wuxian hiccuped back another laugh, valiantly stifling any more teasing. This was worse than A-Yuan, he thought, when A-Yuan wanted to play.

“Fine, fine, fine.” Wei Wuxian relented. “You’re three years old. But Lan Zhan, you’re not going to fit in these cupboards. There’s no place for you to hide.”

Lan Wangji looked around. His face fell a fraction further.

“You’re not A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian said. Just last week, he’d spent an evening watching A-Yuan during work. Wen Qing, due to an emergency at the clinic, was late picking him up, so Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning had taken turns stashing him in various cupboards, then finding him. A secret game of hide and seek to keep a small child entertained without interrupting the dinner rush.

Wei Wuxian realized that Lan Wangji must have observed this. And now, somewhere in his inebriated mind, that had been his first thought when Wei Wuxian said the word ‘play.’ He felt like laughing again—not at Lan Wangji being absurd, but at Lan Wangji being adorable. Poor, sweet, lonely Lan Wangji, who just needed to be loved and teased and humored and cuddled.

“Hey, there’s lots of other games,” Wei Wuxian consoled him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll play hide and seek later, when I take you home.”

Lan Wangji peeked at him through his lashes.

Wei Wuxian nodded, running with it. “Sure. You sober up a little, and I’ll take you home, and we’ll play all you want, ’kay? I promise.”

“Promise,” Lan Wangji echoed.

Wei Wuxian steered him by the shoulders back out to the bar, seating him on a barstool. Lan Wangji went with him willingly.

“That’s a good boy,” he praised again, patting Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Wait right here.”

He ducked back behind the counter to retrieve a bowl of lotus seeds. He began shelling them, sneaking a few bites, and when he had a handful, he poured them in Lan Wangji’s palm. Lan Wangji thus occupied with this snack, Wei Wuxian detoured into the kitchen, grabbing a tray. Not overthinking any of it, he rummaged to and fro, piling various items on it, then grabbed two tea towels. He draped one over the tray, concealing its contents, and swept back through the doorway.

“This game is called…” Wei Wuxian announced, “…The Four Senses of Doom.” He held the tray aloft, brandishing it, then placed it ceremoniously on the bar in front of Lan Wangji. Dramatically, he flourished the second tea towel, indicating on himself how it would serve as a blindfold. “Here are the rules. You wear this. You have to smell, touch, taste, and listen to four mystery items of my choosing. If you guess them all, you win.”

Wei Wuxian really felt he was becoming good at this. He’d invented many such games on rainy days, both in his own childhood and for A-Yuan. If what worked for a three-year-old worked for Lan Wangji, then so be it. He could roll with that.

“What do you think?” Wei Wuxian asked, as Lan Wangji took all of this in. “Better than hiding in a cupboard?”

Lan Wangji considered it, then solemnly gave his assent. Wei Wuxian circled behind him, rolling up the spare tea towel, hovering over his shoulder.

“What do you say, gege? Trust me?” he murmured in Lan Wangji’s ear.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said, and closed his eyes.

Wei Wuxian, who had been about to say something teasing like you shouldn’t, was rendered speechless for a moment. It always shook him to the core when he meant mischief, but Lan Wangji responded with devastating sincerity. One of these days, perhaps he’d grow used to it, if it didn’t kill him first.

At present, Wei Wuxian rewarded that trust by carefully tying the knot at the back of Lan Wangji’s head, making sure not to catch any strands of his hair, before he hopped back over the counter.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said, completely involuntarily, at the sight of Lan Wangji before him. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck me. That’s—”

Lan Wangji lifted his head in the direction of his voice.

“Uhhhh!” Wei Wuxian said loudly before he blurted something else. “Just, uh, stubbed my toe. Ouch,” he lied.

With concern, Lan Wangji said, “Are you all right?”

“Yup!” he chirped. He clinked a few items on the tray, ripping off the cover. “Everything’s ready. You ready?”

Lan Wangji, who was all mouth with those intense eyes covered up, nodded. He sat primly, hands folded, like the teacher’s pet awaiting an exam.

Wei Wuxian uncorked a bottle with a pop. “First sense: smell,” he announced, then without further preamble, stuck it under Lan Wangji’s nose.

The result did not disappoint. Lan Wangji screwed up his face, delicately recoiling. He inhaled enough to make him cough, and Wei Wuxian cackled with delight.

“Vinegar,” Lan Wangji choked out.

“Correct! See, Lan Zhan? Isn’t this game so much fun!”

Even from beneath the blindfold, Lan Wangji gave him what amounted to a withering glare. Wei Wuxian cackled again.

“Wanna quit?” he offered.

“No,” Lan Wangji said firmly.

“’Kay,” Wei Wuxian said, a bit triumphant. “Second sense: taste.”

He let Lan Wangji visibly brace himself, gripping the edge of the counter, obviously expecting the worst. But—Wei Wuxian’s heart warmed—Lan Wangji did not back down. He opened his mouth like a little baby bird.

“No biting,” Wei Wuxian warned him, and placed the small square of chocolate on his tongue.

That reaction was even more rewarding than the first. Confusion, then surprise, then doubt, then pleasure flitted in microscopic succession across Lan Wangji’s face.

“You like that,” Wei Wuxian observed happily, slipping a second piece between his lips. Lan Wangji caught the tip of his finger, more an inadvertent lick than a bite, and Wei Wuxian experienced a brief wash of heat.

“Chocolate,” Lan Wangji said at last, when he had chewed—no, savored—and swallowed the mouthful.

“What kind?”

“Dark. With almonds. You always put it on my table with the tea.”

“Correct, on all counts,” Wei Wuxian said, and cleared his throat, since his voice came out husky. His face felt too warm. Wen Ning had probably forgotten to turn down the heat again before he left. Wei Wuxian made a mental note to scold him. “Uhh… sound, next?” he asked.

Lan Wangji nodded.

Careful not to make sound, Wei Wuxian held up a bowl, then scooped up a handful of flax seeds and slowly released them, letting them sift through his fingers as they fell back in the dish.

Lan Wangji cocked his head attentively. A long silence followed, in which the only sound was the muffled rain outdoors, and their breath.

“Rice,” Lan Wangji guessed.

“Wrong.”

A pause. “Sesame seeds,” Lan Wangji guessed.

“Wrong.”

“Again,” Lan Wangji requested.

Wei Wuxian scooped up a handful, then released it again, more slowly this time, close to Lan Wangji’s ear. “It’s a tough one,” he admitted, which had been his goal when he selected it in the kitchen.

“…Peppercorns.”

Wei Wuxian made an error-buzzer sound. “Wrong. You lose that round.”

Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian well knew, had a competitive streak. Two out of three would not appease him, and Wei Wuxian had every intention of making sure he lost the game two out of four. Giddiness fluttered in his belly as he removed the lid from a small dish.

“Hand,” Wei Wuxian requested.

With far too much trust, Lan Wangji extended his right hand. Wei Wuxian placed it in his own, making a show of stroking it tenderly, then on impulse brushed a kiss across his knuckles, laughing to himself as Lan Wangji stiffened.

“For luck,” Wei Wuxian explained seriously. “Last round: touch.”

Lan Wangji was on edge again, which was perfect, as Wei Wuxian folded down his thumb and last two fingers, and guided the two remaining fingers down to their destination.

Lan Wangji recoiled immediately. Wei Wuxian gripped his hand tight, not letting him pull back, easing his fingers in deeper, swirling them around for good measure. He briefly thought about what it must feel like, but abandoned that in favor of studying Lan Wangji’s reaction, so much better than the vinegar and so very different than the chocolate.

“Well?” Wei Wuxian asked him.

Lan Wangji said through gritted teeth, “It’s… cold.”

“Mm-hmm. What else?”

Wei Wuxian stirred Lan Wangji’s fingers through the dish again, watching a faint shudder overtake him. He was so beautiful like this, so poised, so unwilling, yet overriding those instincts to play Wei Wuxian’s game. Wei Wuxian wanted to eat him alive, to keep him blindfolded and at his mercy, just like this, for the rest of his days.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s white. It’s edible.”

“It’s cold,” Lan Wangji said bitterly.

Wei Wuxian laughed a warm, bright laugh. “How’s this, then?” he said, and without a second thought, licked the mess off Lan Wangji’s fingers, sucking them into his mouth.

Lan Wangji froze. It was that fast, like ice encased him head to toe. Perversely, that simply made Wei Wuxian desperate to continue. He devoted himself to the task, licking Lan Wangji completely clean. One finger, then the other. Then he slid his tongue between them.

Violently, Lan Wangji finally wrenched his hand free. He pushed the blindfold off his eyes, flinching at the light then pinning Wei Wuxian with a look of such scalding fury that Wei Wuxian took a step backwards, even with the countertop between them.

Mouth still open, Wei Wuxian shut it. He wiped the corner of his lips. “Sorry,” he said meekly. “I— Sorry.”

Lan Wangji was breathing sharply. Wei Wuxian watched him close his eyes, executing some internal process that eventually, if not swiftly, evened out his breath, restoring his preternatural calm.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian said again, guilt squirming in his belly, when Lan Wangji opened his eyes. “I—I just got carried away.”

Lan Wangji looked blank again, that careful, blank facade that Wei Wuxian had so longed to crack. Well, look where that got them.

“It’s congee,” Wei Wuxian offered, when Lan Wangji looked at the dish between them. He shrugged. “Leftovers. That’s why it’s cold.”

Lan Wangji took a moment to form his words. “The one before it?”

“Oh. Flax seeds.” Wei Wuxian showed him, pinching a few to drop them in the bowl.

Lan Wangji nodded. “Two then.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Two, you got two right.”

Silence stretched out between them, uncomfortable still.

“Uh, you can do it to me,” Wei Wuxian offered, then felt his face blush red. “I mean, it’s your turn. The game. If you want to keep playing. We don’t have to.”

Lan Wangji weighed this with the gravity with which one might decide whether or not to donate a kidney. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Yes? Keep playing? Your turn?”

“My turn.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled, ready to break the tension. “All right. It’s all yours. Be nice,” he cautioned as they brushed past each other, swapping places.

Lan Wangji, ominously, did not answer, disappearing into the kitchen.

Wei Wuxian exhaled again, a heavy, slow breath, stretching out the tightness in his shoulders. He hopped onto the stool, folding then knotting the cloth over his eyes, and then suddenly he grasped what Lan Wangji had endured.

It was different like this. His head buzzed, every other sense trying to compensate for the loss of vision. His nerve endings prickled, while at the same time a blanket of—what the fuck was it? Calm? Surrender?—settled on him. He felt hyper-aware, even impaired, yet the noise inside his head quieted, practically subsiding altogether.

He wasn’t the stone-cold repressed monk Lan Wangji was. He’d heard this sensation described, usually where kink was involved. Not that he’d ever experienced kink, but it intrigued him academically, what a person might want in bed and why—what he might want in bed and why. Uncomfortable with that train of thought in this position, he squirmed in his seat, shifting his focus back to the blank, floaty sensation.

“Any day now,” he called.

A few more clinks came from the kitchen, before he sensed Lan Wangji reappear, gravely telling him, “Patience.”

It slid like a finger down Wei Wuxian’s spine. He squirmed again involuntarily, and heard what could have been a soft intake of breath from the direction of the doorway.

He flashed a wide, fearless grin, aimed in Lan Wangji’s presumed vicinity. “I’m good at this game,” he warned, determined to get them back on solid, familiar ground.

“Hm,” Lan Wangji said neutrally, and Wei Wuxian’s grin became sincere, picturing the little twitch of amusement in the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth that usually accompanied that tone.

“I mean it. I’m gonna beat you, one hand tied behind my back.”

“And eyes closed?” Lan Wangji deadpanned.

Wei Wuxian laughed, relief and pleasure unspooling in his chest. Not even drunk Lan Wangji could stay mad at him for long. “Bring it on,” he said, loose and ready.

Silence stretched out, but that wasn’t too concerning—Lan Wangji always moved like a ghost. Wei Wuxian waited patiently, determined to make it up to him, to be on his best behavior.

“Here,” Lan Wangji said beside him.

Wei Wuxian jumped, swiveling toward his voice, already disoriented. “Oh, you’re right there,” he said. “Okay, I’m ready. Which one is this?”

“Smell,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian waited, then sniffed. He sniffed again, frowning. “Where is it?”

“Right here.”

Something soft tickled his nose. Wei Wuxian pressed his face into it, senses filling with a cool, clean, woodsy scent. Ah, it was stronger now. He’d just dismissed it at first, what with Lan Wangji right next to him, that particular scent so familiar. He filled his lungs with it now, nuzzling his face against the material, rubbing it all over his skin.

“S’you,” he said, muffled.

Lan Wangji retracted the fabric.

Wei Wuxian said more clearly, “It’s you. That’s your scent. Sandalwood? Your shampoo? Or like… it smells like incense, I don’t know. You just always smell like that, really, really good, really clean and good and nice.” He did a quick calculation, factoring in the bundle of soft fabric, since Lan Wangji would not be willingly disrobing. “Uhh, so it’s your coat? No—your scarf.”

A long moment passed, longer still since Wei Wuxian couldn’t see anything, and then Lan Wangji said, “Correct.”

Wei Wuxian laughed happily. “Ah ha, I knew it! You didn’t know you picked my favorite scent, of course I’d know what it is. Were you trying to trick me, Lan Zhan? Making all that noise in the kitchen so I’d think you were up to something, so I wouldn’t guess the obvious? Well, I can’t be tricked.”

“…Mn,” Lan Wangji acknowledged, voice as deep as usual, still close.

“Come on, give me another one.”

Beside him, there was a little susurration of movement. Wei Wuxian tried to peek, but he’d tied the blindfold too well—not a trace of light got in.

“Taste,” Lan Wangji said formally.

Wei Wuxian licked his lips, nodding, and waited.

He jumped a little, not expecting something to touch his hand. It was Lan Wangji, placing a jar in his palm, folding his fingers around it, then guiding it upwards. Wei Wuxian found the mouth of the jar just as it tilted. Some of it spilled down his chin, pouring too quickly down his throat. But Wei Wuxian coughed and swallowed and drank again, finding the right angles, swirling the taste on his tongue.

It was wine. Not just any wine—fragrant and mellow and so familiar that he’d know it by scent, taste, or touch alone. It wasn’t a trick, Lan Wangji letting him feel the telltale jar only to replace its contents with something else, like Wei Wuxian might have done.

His mouth curled up at the corners. “Emperor’s Smile!” he exclaimed softly. The most top shelf of his top shelf liquors. “My favorite!”

“I know,” Lan Wangji said.

“Awww, you remember. Of course you know. I was drinking it the night we met.” Wei Wuxian took another sip and relished it, no taste like it in the world. “Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan, who knew you’d be so sentimental,” he teased. “But you’re really bad at this game. These two were so easy to guess.”

“Your first two items were easy,” Lan Wangji pointed out.

“Oh, well, yeah, I guess they were. But I had a master plan. It was on purpose.” Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes behind the blindfold. “Is that what you’re doing, gege? Do you have a master plan, on purpose?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said, too easily.

Wei Wuxian choked back a giggle, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Don’t tell me you lie now, Lan Zhan. One drink and all your pretty morals, gone right out the window. Oh, okay, whoa! We’re moving.”

Lan Wangji had grabbed him by the hand, pulling him up off the stool. Soundlessly, he led Wei Wuxian through the maze of tables, a little too swiftly for comfort.

“Okay, whoa, wait, where are we going?” Wei Wuxian bumped against a chair. “Is this part of the game? Are you kidnapping me?”

Across the room, Lan Wangji stopped as abruptly as he’d started, Wei Wuxian colliding with him. There was a brief scraping sound, and then Wei Wuxian could hear the rain, feel a gust of fresh night air.

“Are you taking me outside?” he said, voice pitched a little higher than he meant to. This street was nearly always deserted this time of night, but still—Lan Wangji was drunk, Wei Wuxian was blindfolded. He found he balked at this idea. “I don’t wanna go out in the rain. Let’s stay here, nice and warm, all right? I’ll—”

“Ssh,” Lan Wangji hushed him.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, anyway? Shouldn’t we—”

“Sssh.” A finger pressed hard against Wei Wuxian’s lips. “Listen.”

Taken aback, Wei Wuxian fell silent. After a moment, he realized… he was supposed to guess the sound, wasn’t he? This erratic behavior was Lan Wangji’s way of playing the game.

“I don’t hear anything,” he said after a moment.

Lan Wangji drew him closer to the doorway, but not beyond it. Wei Wuxian listened more intently, trying to pick out any sound. There was just the rain, steadily falling, faintly popping against the paper lanterns strung overhead. The whole street would be glistening, a red and yellow glow cast from the lanterns, the rainy night not bleak, but lovely. He liked the rain. He liked the hush it settled over the world. He liked… oh.

The rain.

“That’s it, isn’t it? The rain. That’s what you wanted me to hear?”

Lan Wangji stood quietly beside him, so close their sleeves brushed. Wei Wuxian took the lack of answer for an answer. He basked in the sound a moment, then nudged Lan Wangji with his shoulder.

“Good one. That’s nice. That’s—”

Lan Wangji cut him off, turning Wei Wuxian to face him, bodily moving him in the doorway, stepping him backwards until Wei Wuxian thunked against the wooden door.

“Ah ha ha… What’s this? Touch?” Wei Wuxian laughed shakily, and then Lan Wangji’s lips pressed hot against his own.

“Mmmf mff mmfff—!” he squawked, undignified, muffled by the heat of Lan Wangji’s mouth. In hindsight, Wei Wuxian felt it was only fair to freak a bit the fuck out. He scrabbled ineffectively at Lan Wangji’s shoulders, just on principle. One asked permission for this sort of thing, one gave warning, one didn’t just tie up someone in a blindfold and—and maul them—

That’s what the kiss felt like, a mauling. It was a little clumsy, a whole lot forceful, basically just like Lan Wangji—direct, determined, intense. Lan Wangji, unperturbed by anything Wei Wuxian’s hands were doing, simply kissed the breath out of his lungs until Wei Wuxian’s hands, of their own accord, were clawing him closer instead, tugging at handfuls of his sweater.

His body, the traitor, had decided closer, harder, more. His brain had blanked out, awash in sensation. Lan Wangji was everywhere, hands dragging down Wei Wuxian’s chest, then plucking Wei Wuxian’s hands free, pinning them to the door above his shoulders.

Wei Wuxian whimpered in a voice he didn’t even recognize as his own. The kiss gentled briefly, Lan Wangji’s tongue tracing the seam of his lips. Wei Wuxian opened up for him, his body molten. “Fuck yes,” he rasped in the barest interval between kisses, and it was like the words broke the spell. Lan Wangji jolted slightly, then reeled away, Wei Wuxian clutching at him even as he came up with handfuls of air.

Trembling, he ripped off the blindfold. He was alone in the doorway, in full view of the street, which was empty. Not that it mattered if a hundred people had been standing there, gawking. Wei Wuxian, lips stinging, body on fire, would have stripped naked in front of them if it brought Lan Wangji back.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he called. “Lan Zhan?!”

His own voice was hoarse, like he’d just been… well, like he’d just been fucking kissed to death by a madman in the guise of his own friend. He stumbled in a quick circle, heartbeat panicky, looking everywhere around him. And then—a dozen paces away, in a little pocket of shadow, he glimpsed a white sweater.

Lan Wangji was standing in the rain, his back to Wei Wuxian, the bad, frozen-blank kind of motionless.

Wei Wuxian’s knees were jelly, but he forced them to hold his weight up. “What are you doing?” he said, running—wobbling—out after him. “Hey! Look at me. You’re getting soaked. What are you doing?”

Lan Wangji did not look at him. He averted his gaze, standing stricken in the rain, coldly pulling his elbow from Wei Wuxian’s grasp.

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian said, miffed. He let his hand drop. “Well, you know what you don’t do? Kiss someone fucking senseless and then run off to stand in the rain like an asshole!”

He sounded—he realized—maybe just slightly hysterical. He had been unprepared for any of this. His lips still burned, and the fact he wanted them back on Lan Wangji made him feel… irritated. Out of sorts. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, which did no good, his sleeve now sodden. Dramatically he loped off to toss himself down on the nearby stoop. It wasn’t even sheltered from the rain, but whatever. He’d just sit here while Lan Wangji had his harebrained, moody moment, and not think about kissing.

That, more than anything, seemed to rouse Lan Wangji from his stupor. Wei Wuxian was picking at a seam on his trousers when he looked up to find Lan Wangji standing in front of him, rain sheeting down his face.

“Feel better?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Lan Wangji did not look better. He looked miserable, and kiss-bitten, and objectively ridiculous. No more ridiculous, Wei Wuxian considered, than Wei Wuxian looked himself, equally sodden, moping like a scorned teenager.

“I—” Lan Wangji faltered.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach did a funny little drop. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. He rallied a tight smile. “It’s okay. We’ve all done it.”

Wei Wuxian had been the one to start it, in fact—licking Lan Wangji’s fingers, provoking him, pushing their boundaries in the first place. At least part of the squirming in his gut had to be due to guilt.

Lan Wangji looked sick to his stomach. “…All done it?” he echoed.

“Sure,” Wei Wuxian said, waving it off with his hand. “We’ve all kissed lots of people, right? Drunk or not. It’s no big deal. Kissing is kissing. Playing is playing. We were just joking around.” He shrugged. “Weren’t we?”

He didn’t count the heartbeats thudding away in his chest, but there were far too many before Lan Wangji gave a single pained nod. He had curled back tightly in his shell, unreachable again. It made Wei Wuxian want to yell, or cry, or hug him, none of which would be welcome.

“Hey, come on,” he said. “It’s cold.” Pushing himself up to his feet, he led the way back indoors.

Lan Wangji followed him silently, abjectly, dripping across the wooden floors. Wei Wuxian did up the locks, and left the mess, and turned off the lights, and got their coats. He was halfway up the flight of stairs when Lan Wangji finally balked.

“Where are we going?” he demanded hoarsely.

Wei Wuxian said, “Upstairs. My place.” Then had to turn back at the landing, Lan Wangji rooted to the spot.

“Your place?” Lan Wangji said.

“I’m cold. You’re wet. I’m tired,” Wei Wuxian recapped. He felt wrung out like a dishrag. “Aren’t you still drunk enough, gege, that you’ll do whatever I say?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened.

Wei Wuxian took pity on him. Relenting, he explained, “Hot shower. Dry clothes. Sleep. I could use all three, couldn’t you?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes were still wide. Wei Wuxian studied his expression.

“Yes or no?”

Breathlessly, Lan Wangji said, “Yes.”

Wei Wuxian cocked his head at him, and let a tiny smile tease his lips. “Decisive. That’s much better. Come on then,” he said, and led the way up the stairs.

Chapter Text

“You’re in luck,” Wei Wuxian said. “Tip for the future: when you kiss boys, make sure they have these kind of luxury accommodations.”

He flicked on the light, gesturing grandly at the small, dim, tiled bathroom. He’d made a quick circuit of his apartment—likely shabby by Lan Wangji’s standards, perfectly cozy by Wei Wuxian’s—turning on space heaters as he went, retrieving a stack of clean towels. Lan Wangji had trailed behind him, a tall, subdued shadow, a little clingy again, which was so much better than non-responsive that Wei Wuxian felt dizzy with relief. See, they could do this. Not exactly pretend nothing had happened, but compartmentalize the fuck out of it, just like responsible adults.

“This is gonna feel so good,” Wei Wuxian promised, turning on the water heater, then the shower. He flinched at the temperature, the spray even more scalding against his chilled fingers. “Just gotta… get it just right.”

He fiddled with the knobs. It was finicky. He’d built it himself from spare parts, the system twice as energy efficient as any other solar heater out there, but the temperature gauge was still a work in progress. It tended to run toward scalding, and the last thing he needed to cap off the day was a naked Lan Wangji with second degree burns.

“There,” he said finally, when the water steamed at a non-lethal temperature. He wanted to stick his whole body beneath it, but his ancestors would roll in their graves if he was that poor a host. He’d give Lan Wangji the first shower, go strip to dry clothes at least, boil some water in the kettle, and then revive himself best he could if there was any hot water left in the tank. “All yours. Don’t…”

Wei Wuxian turned, and the words died in his throat.

Lan Wangji was half naked, calmly stripping off layers. His thick white sweater hit the floor, then the thin white shirt that peeled off him like a second skin. His slim, tailored slacks. Wei Wuxian had not even fully processed the sight of his abs before Lan Wangji shed his boxer briefs.

“Uhhh,” Wei Wuxian said.

Once upon a time Jiang Cheng had misjudged a blow when they were sparring that left him concussed for a week. It felt not unlike that now: mind blank, ears ringing. It really wasn’t fair, the shock of so much skin at once, when Lan Wangji hadn’t ever even acclimated him to a glimpse of a calf or a collarbone, always buttoned up in all his layers.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth had gone dry. He mentally reeled for a moment, re-adjusting all his prior assumptions about Lan Wangji’s willingness to disrobe. Distantly, he became aware of Lan Wangji reaching for him, lifting his shirt up his torso before he suddenly jolted back to his senses, shimmying away.

“Aahh, nope! Ha ha ha ha, no thanks, I’m good!!”

Lan Wangji stared at him, hands still extended, either confused or bereft.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m scared of dogs, those sad puppy eyes don’t work on me. Now just behave and bathe, okay?” He eased Lan Wangji toward the shower. “You’re wasting the hot water.”

“You too,” Lan Wangji said stubbornly.

“Yep, me too. Once you’re done,” Wei Wuxian assured him.

Lan Wangji reluctantly allowed himself to be placed beneath the spray. Wei Wuxian passed him the bar of soap and a washcloth, then breathed a sigh of relief as Lan Wangji indifferently began to lather the former on the latter. He slipped towards the door, in need of fresh air and possibly an entire bottle of liquor, when he heard a thunk behind him.

He turned back to look.

“What are you doing now?!”

Lan Wangji had dropped the soap and crossed the room. Dripping wet, he collected his clothes in both arms, attempting to follow Wei Wuxian out the door.

Wei Wuxian put his face in his hands.

“You’re worse than A-Yuan,” he said. “Lan Zhan, you’re forbidden to ever drink again. I take it back, okay? All those times I begged you to drink with me. Never again. I won’t survive this.”

In what was, unbelievably, not the wildest thing he’d done that evening, he took the clothes from Lan Wangji’s arms and tossed them on the floor, then steered him bare-assed toward the shower.

“Stay,” he said firmly.

Lan Wangji obeyed him, not moving, just standing there with his eyes lowered, lashes wet, water streaming down his shoulders. It was a pitiful sight, even worse than when he’d theatrically abandoned Wei Wuxian in the rain. For all his bluster, Wei Wuxian was not immune to such tactics. He never had been. Not since the first time Lan Wangji had met his gaze with those eyes the color of malted chocolate.

“What?” Wei Wuxian teased him gently. “Did you think I was gonna bathe with you? Scrub your back? Wash your hair?”

Inconceivably, Lan Wangji nodded.

“Did you want me to?” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Wangji averted his eyes further, the temperature of the water starting to splotch his skin red.

Desperately, Wei Wuxian gave himself a stern lecture. He had a whole list of reasons why this was extremely ill-advised. Not least of which: Lan Wangji was drunk. Lan Wangji had already proven his judgment was, to say the least, compromised tonight.

But on the other hand…

Lan Wangji was drunk. Lan Wangji had already put his hands and mouth all over him, and that turned out okay. Wei Wuxian had been in countless locker rooms before—why should this be any different? Lan Wangji had practically asked him, so nicely. Besides, Wei Wuxian was sober—nothing would happen on his watch. And this way, Wei Wuxian could go to his grave knowing that, at least once in his life, he’d been naked with Lan Wangji in the shower.

“Just this once,” Wei Wuxian swore, shucking out of his clothes before he could come to his senses. Before the voice of reason in his head—which sounded suspiciously like Wen Qing—could say, what the fuck, Wei Ying?! “Just because you’re drunk, and you might drown,” he rationalized expertly, nudging Lan Wangji aside to make room beneath the showerhead.

They both fit, just barely. Wei Wuxian glanced over to see if Lan Wangji looked smug. Actually, he just looked like he’d been concussed.

“If you didn’t think I’d do it,” Wei Wuxian told him, “you should know me better than that. I never back down from a dare.”

He doused his head beneath the water, then squirted shampoo in his palm and began to soap his scalp quickly.

“No,” Lan Wangji said, stopping his hand.

“What? I’ll wash yours next, I said I would.”

“No,” Lan Wangji said firmly, and pulled Wei Wuxian around to face him.

It wasn’t the first time that night that a frisson of fear jolted through him, his heartbeat kicking in his chest, but Lan Wangji simply pulled Wei Wuxian’s hands away and replaced them with his own, beginning to methodically work the shampoo into his hair.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said. “You wanted to… oh.” And then a long moment later, “oh,” as the pleasure of it began to seep down through him.

He could see why people paid money for this in salons. It was very different from his own perfunctory scrubbing. Lan Wangji was good at this, his unhurried attention to detail, his deft musician’s hands. Tension released from Wei Wuxian’s shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there. He hadn’t been touched in so long, not like this. Cuddles from A-Yuan, a brusque hug from the Wen siblings, even Lan Wangji’s handsiness earlier… none of that felt like this. To be touched just for the sake of comfort, of care, it did something to him that made a bit of water well beneath his lashes.

He was not going to cry. He was not going to stand in a shower with Lan Wangji and cry, no matter how good those fingers felt, gently massaging his scalp until Wei Wuxian felt relaxed and overwhelmed and a little floaty again.

“You could do that for a living,” he murmured dreamily.

“Ssh,” Lan Wangji answered.

“I mean it. I take back what I took back—you can get drunk all the time if you treat me like this. You could do this every day if you wanted.”

The fingers dug a little deeper into his scalp, which elicited a tiny moan from him.

“All right,” Lan Wangji agreed.

Wei Wuxian smiled at the picture, eyes closed as Lan Wangji, just as methodically, began to rinse his hair.

“Why’s your favorite color red?” Wei Wuxian said, every thought in his head just popping out of his mouth, too relaxed to stop it. “I’ve never seen you wear it. Not like I do.”

For a second, he could have sworn Lan Wangji started to answer him, but it must have been his dream state. Lan Wangji’s fingers paused, but then continued, combing through his hair in silence, carefully applying conditioner.

Wei Wuxian peeked down at Lan Wangji’s body—a little more prepared for it this time—the second thought popping out like a soap bubble. “You really don’t have tattoos,” he mused.

Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened again, a little tug on Wei Wuxian’s scalp that went straight to his spine, rendering his knees briefly jelly-ish again.

He giggled, voice a little slurred with contentment. “Thought maybe that’s why you kept covered up all the time.” He poked Lan Wangji’s bicep. “Lots of really, really hot, really shameful tattoos, all over your… ow!”

“Do not tease,” Lan Wangji said gently, voice at odds with the second sharp tug to Wei Wuxian’s scalp. Then he soothed it again, massaging the sting away until—to Wei Wuxian’s despair—he released him entirely.

Wei Wuxian just stood there, looking at Lan Wangji, muzzy and transfixed by the droplets pearled in Lan Wangji’s lashes. He really could stare at him all day. He could lick Lan Wangji like an ice cream cone and still want more. He could—

Wei Wuxian forcefully derailed that train of thought. He was here as the sober, responsible adult between the two of them. That was just a little blip. Lan Wangji could stop looking at him like he was malted chocolate. Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, willing the heat in his cheeks to subside. “Your turn,” he told Lan Wangji.

“…My turn,” Lan Wangji said.

Their height difference was so slight it rarely felt significant, but Wei Wuxian had to dip Lan Wangji’s head down to get it in the spray. He focused on the task at hand, clearing his mind of everything but the next step in front of him. It was routine for a minute—wetting Lan Wangji’s hair, slicking it with shampoo, scrubbing it into a lather. Wei Wuxian always used too much shampoo, creating thick clumps of lather that made it easy to sculpt A-Yuan’s hair into shapes—a horn, a mohawk, bunny ears—until the little boy squealed and giggled, bath time no longer worth a tantrum.

“I might not have your magic fingers, but I’m really very good at this,” Wei Wuxian said, scrubbing perhaps a bit vigorously. Unlike A-Yuan, Lan Wangji wasn’t closing his eyes at the threat of soapy bubbles. He just kept looking steadily at Wei Wuxian, as if he might vanish if he blinked. “I’ve gotten lots of practice,” Wei Wuxian explained. “Three year olds get very dirty.”

“Three year olds,” Lan Wangji said, doing that thing where he listened by echoing Wei Wuxian’s phrases back at him.

“Mmm-hm,” Wei Wuxian said. “I swear, some days you can bathe that kid, and thirty seconds later, he’s covered in shit again. Just last week, I told him, quick, let’s go put on his clean pajamas before Qing-jiejie gets home, and then Wen Qing comes in to find him under the bed, scooting around in the dust, because his stuffed bunny rabbit got scared and A-Yuan had to show him there weren’t any monsters.”

Wei Wuxian giggled, overwhelmed with fondness at the memory, how even Wen Qing hadn’t been able to scold him for that one.

“He’s too cute, is the problem,” Wei Wuxian said. “I bet you were like that as a kid. All cute and solemn and earnest, so you could get away with anything.”

Lan Wangji, who was still looking at him, asked, “Do you want children of your own?”

Wei Wuxian blinked, the question far more serious than the flippant tone he’d been setting. Ah, but then he remembered how that had been his own question earlier when he was joking around, along with the favorite color and the tattoos—that must be what put it in Lan Wangji’s head.

“I dunno,” he mused. “I mean, yeah. Sure I do, when I think about it. I just don’t really… think about it, officially.” He had rinsed Lan Wangji’s hair by now, so he conditioned it. “Just like… I never thought about having A-Yuan, until I got pregnant, and then I knew I had to keep him.”

Lan Wangji leveled him with a flat, unimpressed look. It was one of Wei Wuxian’s most frequent, most favorite jokes, and he enjoyed it just as much the hundredth time as he did the first, especially now that Lan Wangji’s unimpressed look was tinged with warmth around the edges.

Wei Wuxian tickled him beneath his chin. “All done,” he said.

The water had started to lose a bit of its heat. Wei Wuxian bathed off quickly, rinsing the suds down the drain. Lan Wangji did the same, lingering to wash his face carefully, upturning it beneath the water. Wei Wuxian toweled off as he waited, squeezing the excess water out of his hair, donning an old, clean pair of sweatpants.

When the shower shut off, he stood ready with a robe and his plushest, cleanest towel, swaddling Lan Wangji in layers—the towel first to dry off, then the robe, which had seen better days but was soft and warm as a hug. The last towel in the stack caught Wei Wuxian’s eye, and in a fit of mischief he settled it on Lan Wangji’s head, positioning it so the pink ears flopped mostly upright. It was A-Yuan’s, a well-worn, well-loved bunny face sewn into the hooded corner of the terrycloth. Lan Wangji endured it, Wei Wuxian belly-laughing as he cleared the steam off the mirror to show Lan Wangji what he looked like.

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” Wei Wuxian promised, perching on the edge of the sink to draw Lan Wangji between his legs. “You’re just so fun to tease, Lan Zhan. It’s not fair. You can’t blame me.”

He began to towel Lan Wangji’s hair dry, roughly at first, and then more gently as it went from dripping wet to damp, so he wouldn’t have to comb out a nest of tangles. Lan Wangji probably had eighteen hundred hair products at home, and one of those fancy blow dryers to make his hair smooth as silk, but he’d just have to rough it tonight. He smelled like apples—Wei Wuxian’s shampoo—which was such an extraordinary novelty that Wei Wuxian detoured through the fantasy of wanting to lick him again, or bury his face in his hair and not emerge for a week. He found himself grinning, the laughter still simmering in his veins, when he discarded the towel and drew back to survey his handiwork.

Lan Wangji looked mussed, but warm and clean, no longer forlorn and bedraggled. His cheeks were flushed as pink as Wei Wuxian had ever seen them, from the steam and the scrubbing and the toweling. Wei Wuxian wanted to pinch them, make them pinker. As pink as his ears when Wei Wuxian teased him, and touched him, and tormented him out of his shell.

This time, Wei Wuxian knew what was going to happen half a heartbeat before he did it. He leaned in, pecking a kiss on Lan Wangji’s soft, parted lips.

Lan Wangji’s lips parted further, a little huff of surprise. Really? Wei Wuxian thought, giddy. That was nothing—look at the onslaught Wei Wuxian had survived earlier. Lan Wangji had been the one to introduce kissing into their repertoire of mischief—Wei Wuxian was merely ensuring it became tradition. Smiling, he nipped at Lan Wangji’s lips, bestowing a second kiss on him. A third.

“Oh,” he said, as Lan Wangji’s palm came up to cup the back of his neck. And then Wei Wuxian leaned forward, locking their mouths together as Lan Wangji drew him in.

It was like what happened downstairs had merely been a prelude to this. Lan Wangji’s tongue found his, no finesse to it, no knack, just taking hungry little pulls of his mouth like he was the one prising Wei Wuxian from his shell. Wei Wuxian had to work out how to breathe, clutching at Lan Wangji’s shoulders, making muffled little sounds as they traded deep, fervent kisses. Lan Wangji’s hand tightened in his hair with every pass of their tongues, until Wei Wuxian was strung taut as a tripwire, his head swimming with pleasure.

“Wow, you’re really—” Wei Wuxian panted when he was allowed a brief gulp of air, and then they were kissing again, deeply, roughly. His mouth felt bruised already, swollen and tingling with heat. His head clunked back against the mirror, his legs locked tight around Lan Wangji’s waist. When had that happened? He didn’t care. He didn’t let Lan Wangji go this time. He dug his hands in Lan Wangji’s hair and let Lan Wangji take him, lips, tongue, teeth, everything.

“Aiya! Why are you biting?!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, a little shrilly.

Lan Wangji, briefly done abusing his mouth, had licked his way down Wei Wuxian’s neck, sinking his teeth into a tendon and sucking hard enough to bruise.

Wei Wuxian writhed, slapping at Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“Stop,” Lan Wangji said, voice so rough the animal part of Wei Wuxian’s brain obeyed him. Heat flushed down his thighs, and if his legs weren’t already spread, he would have spread them.

Blushing hotly, Wei Wuxian said, “You can’t treat me like this.”

Lan Wangji simply licked the bruise he’d made and placed another, teeth marking a spot just beneath Wei Wuxian’s jaw.

Wei Wuxian gasped. “If you bite me, I’ll…”

Wild with daring, he snaked his hand down between them, cupping Lan Wangji between his legs. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat tripped in his chest, skin so flushed it verged on sweaty, and for a second he didn’t realize that what happened next really happened.

One moment Lan Wangji was staring at him, lips wet, eyes blazing—the next moment there was a chonk, and one side of the wall-mounted sink gave way beneath him. The bolt snapped loose, the pipe too, shearing away from the wall, spraying a fine mist in the air as the whole fixture pitched sideways, dumping Wei Wuxian towards the floor.

He really thought he had reached his capacity for surprise. He collided with Lan Wangji, who caught him, briefly slipping on the tile but then righting them both.

Wei Wuxian stared open-mouthed at the state of his sink, then slumped into Lan Wangji’s side and helplessly burst into laughter.

“I have told you, do not tease,” Lan Wangji said grimly.

He hauled Wei Wuxian up by one arm, hooking it around his neck, picking him up off his feet. Wei Wuxian clung to Lan Wangji’s shoulders and laughed until he hiccuped, until tears streaked down his cheeks, until Lan Wangji, just as grimly, carried him down the hall and dropped him on the bed.

“Aiya, careful!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, still shaking with mirth. He bounced on the mattress and landed, throwing his hand in the air, planting a stern foot in the center of Lan Wangji’s chest. “That’s enough for one night,” he scolded primly. “Wangji-xiong. Lan-er-gege. Zhan-er. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Lan Wangji looked wrathful. If he had kissed Wei Wuxian to pieces, it looked like he could do worse with his bare hands. Wei Wuxian felt a thrill of alarm as his leg bent at the knee, Lan Wangji descending on him anyway.

“Lan Zhan, be a gentleman. You can’t just—nnnggggh!”

Lan Wangji, mouth first, attacked him again. Wei Wuxian, with effort, kissed him roughly back, then forced him off again. Out of pure animal instinct, he scrambled backwards across the bed. Lan Wangji caught him by the ankle, unperturbed, and dragged Wei Wuxian back towards him.

Fear and glee ripped through him, an electrifying mix of both as he instinctively reversed momentum. He caught Lan Wangji by the waist, tackling him down on the bed. They grappled hard and fast for a moment, rolling over until Wei Wuxian came out on top. He smacked Lan Wangji’s hands away, which were trying to prevent him from clawing open the front of the robe. He was laughing breathlessly again, long before Lan Wangji gathered his strength and slammed him backwards, hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Wei Wuxian threw up his hands, flopping like a rag doll on the bed. He wheezed, catching his breath. “I surrender! You win, gege.”

Lan Wangji didn’t pounce so much as sit astride him with great elegance and dignity. His cheeks red, the robe still intact, he sat there breathing hard for a moment, looming over Wei Wuxian.

“You’re really too much,” Wei Wuxian said, gesturing Lan Wangji closer with one finger, like he was going to whisper a secret in his ear. Instead, smirking gleefully, he shoved his hand beneath Lan Wangji’s robe and squeezed.

Swift as lightning, Lan Wangji caught him, slamming his wrists back into the mattress, pinning them above his head. He loomed again for a moment, then, not breaking Wei Wuxian’s gaze, reached down and began to untie the knot at the front of Wei Wuxian’s sweatpants.

“Aiya, what—!” Wei Wuxian yelped, realizing belatedly that he was well and truly pinned by Lan Wangji’s full weight. Lan Wangji held him down with one hand, pulling the drawstring free with the other. Calmly, he looped it around Wei Wuxian’s wrists, binding them with a swift knot.

Wei Wuxian’s pulse spiked for no reason at all as he tugged his hands apart. It was a slipknot, too loose to hold him, the string slipping down his arms.

Frowning, Lan Wangji looped the string again. He secured a dead knot this time, then a bow—then he considered for a moment and replaced the bow with a stack of little dead knots. “Mn,” he murmured, pleased, lifting Wei Wuxian’s hands, observing the result.

Wei Wuxian tugged at his wrists again—there was no give to it this time. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off circulation, but it would take a considerable amount of effort to get free.

“Look at you, you’re so happy,” Wei Wuxian said. “Okay, that’s very good, that’s very clever, you’re very funny. You win. You can untie me now.”

Lan Wangji pretended not to hear him, laying a hand on Wei Wuxian’s chest, pressing him flat on the bed.

His heartbeat kicked up again, knocking so hard against his ribs that Lan Wangji had to feel it.

“Lan Zhan, did you hear me? I said that’s good, you’re very funny. You can untie me now.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, preoccupied. He traced the little mouth-shaped marks on Wei Wuxian’s neck, connecting the dots with his finger.

“See how fast I bruise?” Wei Wuxian whined. He tugged at his wrists again. “This is gonna leave marks.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He realized that too late, as Lan Wangji’s eyes flashed, the same dark look that very much wasn’t contrition, just like when he’d woken up and nearly bitten Wei Wuxian’s finger off downstairs.

Wei Wuxian’s finger throbbed at the thought. As did his wrists, as did the stinging bites on his neck. And to his utter and eternal mortification, his very traitorous dick.

It was—look, it was just a lot, okay? He’d been kissed. He was half naked. He was trussed up like a goose. He had the objectively and unfairly gorgeous Lan Wangji straddling his thighs, fixing him with a look of appraisal. Anybody’s dick would—fuck—anybody’s dick would get hard and betray them like this, beginning to leak through his sweats.

This was a good opportunity, actually, Wei Wuxian considered, to reassess the situation. They had gotten carried away, that was all. He’d had no end game in mind with all this teasing, but now, it was probably best to come back to his senses. He’d save Lan Wangji some face, let him sleep it off, and well, if he woke up and was still inclined to fool around in the morning, Wei Wuxian would be amenable. He opened his mouth to suggest this, to steer them safely back on course, but instead he gasped and left his body.

Lan Wangji had bent down, curling his tongue around Wei Wuxian’s very taut nipple. His hips bucked in response, entirely without his permission, arching up off the bed as Lan Wangji grazed him with sharp teeth. The sensation shot straight to his groin, a surge of heat and shock and pain that swirled in devastating pleasure, pulling a moan from his throat. He collapsed back down, panting.

“What the fuck was that?” Wei Wuxian demanded, aggrieved.

“Hm.” Lan Wangji studied him, his pretty mouth pink and wet, and leaned down and did it again.

Wei Wuxian cried out, twisting away, pushing his bound hands against Lan Wangji’s chest. Lan Wangji patiently bore this assault, then drew Wei Wuxian’s hands away, pressing them above his head.

“Behave,” he requested.

Wei Wuxian thrashed in his grip, chest heaving, then abruptly changed tack. “You can’t,” he said reasonably. “Lan Zhan, come on, think about it. You can’t just tie someone up and—”

Lan Wangji did not wait for the end of that sentence. He demonstrated that he could, laving his tongue across Wei Wuxian’s other poor nipple, pinching and twisting the first one. Wei Wuxian whined and pitched upwards, desperately rolling his hips, then desperately trying to stop. Sure, Lan Wangji had been… not disinterested when Wei Wuxian groped him before. But that was different. An incidental erection amongst friends, after some heavy petting and kissing, was very different from humping Lan Wangji’s leg like the world’s horniest teenager.

Wei Wuxian’s face was aflame. “Lan Zhan,” he begged wretchedly, trying to hide his face in his elbow.

Lan Wangji detached his mouth, giving the abraded, sensitive nipple a parting kiss. “Yes?” he asked, barely affected, as if they were actually going to sit here and converse.

“I… I’m…”

“Yes?” Lan Wangji prompted, when he failed to continue.

“I’m close,” Wei Wuxian blurted in mortification, since the alternative was worse. He squeezed his eyes shut. “You really have to stop—or I’ll—I’ll come.”

There was a long beat of silence. The word burned like a coal in Wei Wuxian’s throat. He really should have chosen a better one, his cock still eagerly and painfully making itself known, sticky and pulsing absurdly in the thick fabric of his sweats.

“…All right,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian snapped his gaze up. “What?”

“Come,” Lan Wangji said. “If you are ready.”

Wei Wuxian choked, a strangled sound. “Lan Zhan, you can’t just say that!”

Lan Wangji’s chest was rising and falling beneath the red robe, his neck flushed in the dim light—perhaps Wei Wuxian had underestimated the effect this had on him. He felt a petty surge of satisfaction.

“You said…” Lan Wangji said.

“I know what I said!!”

“Then you may…”

Wei Wuxian yelped. “I don’t want to!” he said miserably. “I’m supposed to—you’re supposed to—Lan Zhan, you can’t—”

Lan Wangji leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. It shut him up. It felt so good that Wei Wuxian kissed him back. He drew Lan Wangji in, looping his bound arms around the back of his neck. They found the rhythm again, their mouths connecting and parting, a series of sweet, messy kisses until Wei Wuxian felt less like flying apart, a bit more grounded in his skin.

Not breaking the kiss, Lan Wangji stretched out beside him. They made out for several long minutes, legs tangled together. See? It was so nice like this, Lan Wangji stroking his back, now and then grazing the boundary where his sweatpants met his skin. Wei Wuxian could do this all night. He could live like this, actually, if Lan Wangji felt like retiring from civilization at the age of thirty and never leaving his bed.

“S’nice,” Wei Wuxian murmured, his arousal in a less acute phase of emergency, a pleasant, aching simmer. He had allowed his hips to begin grinding again, less frantic this time, against Lan Wangji’s thigh.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, nosing against his neck. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

“Pfffft, you didn’t hurt me,” Wei Wuxian scoffed. “I’m not that fragile.”

“Mn, very delicate.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, his eyes creasing into crescents. Lan Wangji teasing him was just as exquisite as Lan Wangji infuriated at him.

“You just… don’t have much experience at this, is all,” Wei Wuxian rambled, feeling magnanimous. “You’re so good, you’ve probably never even read smut or seen porn! You don’t know what you’re doing, like how you’re supposed to build up to that kind of thing. You know, in bed. Unless it’s the kind of smut where—the kind of smut—” Wei Wuxian blushed and bailed on that train of thought. “It’s okay,” he assured him. “It wasn’t bad! It was just… a whole lot all at once. You didn’t realize. Good thing I’m here, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Lan Wangji’s hand had gone still on the small of his back. “I do not know what I’m doing.”

To be fair, it wasn’t easy to think, half naked in Lan Wangji’s arms. Anyone else would miss it too, the edge in Lan Wangji’s calm voice.

“Yeah, but like, who does, the first time!” Wei Wuxian encouraged him, patting his shoulder.

“…I do not know what I’m doing,” Lan Wangji repeated.

Wei Wuxian kissed him, slipping in a little extra tongue. Lan Wangji’s grip on him tightened, then he released him, unceremoniously dumping Wei Wuxian out of his arms.

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian squawked at this turn of events.

Lan Wangji manhandled him around, pulling him up on his hands and knees. Wei Wuxian nearly toppled sideways, off-balance, his wrists still bound together.

“Lan Zhan!” He laughed, sharp and breathless.

Lan Wangji steadied him, fingers digging into his waist, leaning over him, his other hand planted next to Wei Wuxian’s own.

“I do not know what I’m doing,” he repeated a third time, next to Wei Wuxian’s ear.

Lan Wangji’s chest was pressed against his back, their hips flush together. Wei Wuxian could fucking feel him, even through the thick sweats and thin robe, a hard length against his ass. His own dick pulsed, entering a state of emergency again.

“Ah ha ha ha, Lan Zhan.” He laughed shakily. “What are you doing?”

In answer, Lan Wangji rocked forward against him, pushing their hips together. Wei Wuxian flailed and had to rebalance again, hands digging into the pillow.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you’ve made your point!! I was wrong, I was wrong! Lan-er-gege, you’re fantastic in bed, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

This position was obscene. He tried to wriggle out of it, but Lan Wangji hauled him back. Wei Wuxian’s brain spun like a top, whiting out, a little whimper from his lips as he rocked back for more contact.

“Hm,” Lan Wangji murmured with what sounded like approval.

That did not improve Wei Wuxian’s situation. “Ffffffuck,” he whispered as Lan Wangji reached around him. He had no slacks to unzip; just the loose waistband of his sweats, already untied and hanging open. Lan Wangji was breathing harshly, which was Wei Wuxian’s one consolation as Lan Wangji’s warm fingers circled around his dick.

He emitted an embarrassing sound. The string bit his wrists as he tried to pull free, which went straight to his groin, which did something like make him a livewire of pleasure. There was no way to escape it—Lan Wangji’s hand on him, Lan Wangji pressed against him from behind. Every little twitch of struggle completed a circuit, just making it better—no, worse.

“It—it’s not what you think,” Wei Wuxian panted, with dignity.

Lan Wangji stroked him again, properly this time, root to red, wet, aching tip. He collected the moisture in his palm, slicking Wei Wuxian with it. Wei Wuxian flushed with shame, using every ounce of his willpower to keep from rocking his hips.

“I’m not—I’m not turned on. This is all just a big—misunderstanding.”

Wei Wuxian swore he could feel Lan Wangji’s lips twitch, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. Another whorl of pleasure unspooled in his belly, sparking across his bare skin.

“Are you laughing?” he demanded. “How dare you! Lan Zhan, you can’t laugh, not where I can’t see you!”

“I’m not laughing,” Lan Wangji promised. He stroked Wei Wuxian seriously, too slow, too light, too slick with precome to provide any satisfying friction. “I can see you are not aroused by this at all.”

Fuck. Wei Wuxian loved a monster. Lan Wangji was diabolical, treating him like this. How dare he joke with his hand around Wei Wuxian’s dick! Wei Wuxian made an nnnngghh sound again, which did not count as begging.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he said. “I really don’t want to come like this.”

Lan Wangji’s hand paused. Wei Wuxian almost cried out at the injustice, his hips rocking forward, needing that rhythm again. Lan Wangji obliged him, resuming the slow, thoughtful strokes.

“How would you like to come?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian’s brain was not going to survive this intact. He moaned. “I wouldn’t like to! That’s the point! Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan, don’t you know—ahh, I’m supposed to be the one—I should be touching you.”

Thoughtfully, Lan Wangji increased the speed of his strokes. Wei Wuxian was so wet that the sound filled the room. He whimpered, pained, the entire surface of his skin as hot as the sun.

“Doesn’t that sound nice, me touching you? Don’t you want that?” he asked optimistically.

Lan Wangji seemed to think about it. “Later,” he decided. “I am happy with this.”

Wei Wuxian stuffed the pillow into his mouth. He cried out, muffled, as his arms gave out beneath him. His shoulders slumped down on the bed, which changed the angle of—everything. Lan Wangji’s hand slipped off his dick. Lan Wangji’s dick slipped against his ass.

They both fell still, frozen mid-air. An alarm rang somewhere in the recesses of Wei Wuxian’s mind. He needed to come, dammit, get it over with, not—not whatever Lan Wangji was going to do to him next. His cock twitched in agony, or relief, as Lan Wangji moved away, pulling their bodies apart.

“No,” Wei Wuxian begged hoarsely.

Lan Wangji soothed a hand down his flank, then pulled his sweatpants down, bunching them around his knees. Wei Wuxian whimpered pitifully at the rush of cool air, and bit down on the pillow.

“Mmmmff mfffff mff mmmmfff mf?”

Lan Wangji palmed him, roughly squeezing two handfuls of his very bare flesh.

Wei Wuxian spit out the pillow and bravely tried again. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji pondered, and bit him like a peach.

Wei Wuxian jerked forward so sharply he knocked his head on the headboard. Lan Wangji chased the bite with a kiss, then chased the kiss with a kittenish little lick of his tongue.

“Lan Zhaa-aaan,” Wei Wuxian wailed.

“Be still,” Lan Wangji told him, sounding short of breath, and bit him again.

It was obscene. It was ridiculous. Wei Wuxian moaned in despair, hugging the pillow with his elbows like it was his last friend on earth. This was ten thousand times worse than the hand on his dick, or the mouth on his nipple. He reminisced fondly about his pure and innocent self of five minutes ago, thinking he’d known the extent of Lan Wangji’s madness. It was nothing compared to this—Lan Wangji kneeling behind him, planting tender little bites on his ass, soothing with harsh little kisses, working his way towards the center.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian chanted, as Lan Wangji arrived at the tight furl of tender skin. “I lied, I lied. Go back. Jerk me off again. I want your hand back on me.”

“You have brought this on yourself,” Lan Wangji told him, and administered his tongue.

Nothing in ten lifetimes could have prepared Wei Wuxian for this. His body shouted at him, every nerve ending responding to the heat of Lan Wangji’s mouth. It was wet, it was humiliating, it was like absolutely nothing he had felt before in his life. Lan Wangji—of course he was—was somehow dutiful about it. He explored Wei Wuxian with care, methodically working him open with his tongue, learning exactly what to do, observing Wei Wuxian’s responses. Something broke in Wei Wuxian’s brain—his resistance became pleasure, which became desperate mortification, which made his body sing. It was the same rhythm they had learned when they kissed mouth to mouth—a push and pull to it, a feedback loop. Wei Wuxian clung to the pillow, grinding in helpless little circles back against Lan Wangji’s tongue. It might have been a minute or an hour as he floated and sobbed, begging for more—no, he was supposed to beg to stop. The words poured out, incoherent, with no input from his brain.

“I’ll be so good for you, so good,” Wei Wuxian babbled. “Lan Zhan, I want it, I want it, fuck me, put it in me, just go ahead, do it.”

Lan Wangji pulled back, scarcely far enough to speak. “What?”

Wei Wuxian writhed in distress at the loss of contact. He hadn’t thought—and yes, he was dimly aware of the irony—there would be so much talking. “I said fuck me,” he said, clenching down, feeling empty. “Aren’t you going to put it in me? Go ahead, what are you waiting for? Get it over with,” he begged.

Lan Wangji was breathing like he had run a marathon. Wei Wuxian could feel each puff of air scalding his sensitized skin.

“Lan Zhan, you’re so good, don’t be mean,” he pleaded. “Can’t you see—nnnngh—can’t you see how much I want it?”

He rocked his hips in illustration, grinding back in search of Lan Wangji’s mouth.

Lan Wangji drew in a sharp breath. “You are not ready.”

“I’m ready, I’m ready, I was born ready! I’ll be so good for you, I promise. Don’t be cruel, I can take it.”

As if to prove a point, Lan Wangji pressed his finger to his entrance. Wei Wuxian clenched down in shock, involuntarily, then felt the tip of it breach him.

All the breath left his body. That was—bigger than he thought. It was one finger, but the stretch was sharp, sudden, even with saliva to ease the way.

“More,” he begged hoarsely.

Lan Wangji withdrew, then two fingers were pressing blunt against his hole. There was a brief snag of resistance, and then both slid inside him, pressing his wet rim open. Lan Wangji eased his fingers in down past the first knuckle, so tight that he grazed against a spot inside Wei Wuxian. A lightning bolt of pleasure ripped up his spine, and Wei Wuxian cried out and came.

It took him a moment to even realize what had happened, his dick pulsing as it spent itself, completely untouched. Some of it striped his stomach; most of it made a mess of the bed beneath him. He reached down to at least stroke himself through the aftershocks but his wrists snagged, still tied together. That’s what made him cry out again, collapsing numbly on the bed.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji said, fingers somehow still inside him.

Wei Wuxian, mortifyingly, clenched around the intrusion, grinding himself mindlessly back against it, rubbing his dick on the ruined sheets. It was all ruined now, he was ruined, what did it matter if he lost any more face?

“Come inside me,” he babbled. “I want it, I want it. Lan Zhan, can’t you see, I want it so—nnnnh—”

He choked on a little sob as Lan Wangji withdrew instead. There was a soft whump of fabric—Lan Wangji tossed aside his robe. Wei Wuxian had no time to mourn that—he’d wanted to peel Lan Wangji out of it—before the heat of Lan Wangji’s body surrounded him again.

It shocked him quiet, the idea that Lan Wangji was really going to do it. More heat curled in his stomach as his entire body trembled. He spread his legs a little wider.

The unmistakable sound of hand-on-skin contact filled the room behind him. It was as wet and as fast as Lan Wangji’s harsh breaths, and then, a few heartbeats later, a burst of warmth spilled across his back.

That felt familiar, matching the mess on his stomach. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh softly, euphoric, still too out of it to succeed in lifting his head to look. “Lan Zhan, did you come?! Already? I said come in me, not all over me… before you even got it inside, you came all over my back?!”

His voice was still slurred, probably difficult to decipher. He wiggled his toes, the one part of him that seemed under his control. His mouth was not.

“You did, didn’t you?” He grinned, hazy and triumphant. “Lan Zhan, you came all over me. You made such a mess, gege. Bad boy. You’re really shameless, you’re gonna have to clean me up.”

“Stop… teasing,” Lan Wangji whispered, which told Wei Wuxian everything he needed to know.

“But I can feel it, Lan Zhan. It’s dripping all over me. It’s really—”

Wei Wuxian cut off the words, choking in disbelief as Lan Wangji swiped a hand through the mess, using two fingers to push some of it inside Wei Wuxian’s oversensitized body.

“That’s not—!” Wei Wuxian yelped, then, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath as Lan Wangji added more.

“Have you not learned your lesson?” Lan Wangji scraped the words out, audibly rattled.

“I have, I have,” Wei Wuxian said, meaning it.

Lan Wangji must have detected the change in his voice. He ceased, withdrawing carefully, wiping his hand. He joined Wei Wuxian down on the bed, laying flat on his back beside where Wei Wuxian was sprawled flat on his belly. Several seconds ticked by in silence as they lay there side by side, catching their breath. The air grew quiet, strange, intimate. Rain ran down the window pane, a soft, steady patter, the room dim and warm as a cocoon.

Wei Wuxian blushed as he finally shifted his weight, feeling the cooling, tacky mess beneath him, a similar sensation all over his back.

“Aiya, you really came a lot, Lan Zhan,” he said, and had the pleasure of watching a fresh wash of color bloom across Lan Wangji’s skin.

Shakily, Wei Wuxian propped up on his elbows, wincing at the stiffness in his arms. Bringing his wrists up, he began to pick apart the knotted string with his teeth.

Lan Wangji stopped him with one hand. He reached over, carefully working at the first knot himself, then gave up and snapped the string in two.

Wei Wuxian hissed at the sting, then hummed happily as Lan Wangji’s thumb soothed the tender, chafed skin. He scooted over, pressing close, addicted as he was now to Lan Wangji’s body.

“It hurts here too,” Wei Wuxian said, offering him another part of his wrist.

Dutifully, Lan Wangji soothed that spot too. The same mouth that had nearly taken him apart kissed his wrist with tender care. Wei Wuxian felt his heart lurch in his chest, even as the frantic beat of it had slowly leveled out.

“Lan Zhan, did you like that? Was it good?” he asked, soft enough that it matched the hushed intimacy of the room.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, his voice still shot. He didn’t let Wei Wuxian’s wrist go. As if without thinking, he dug his thumb against the worst of the marks, so roughly it hurt.

Wei Wuxian inhaled, and they both looked down as his dick gave a valiant little stir.

“Aiya, ignore him,” Wei Wuxian said, patting himself with one hand. “He’s never known when to cut it out.”

A little twitch tugged at the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth. It was one of Wei Wuxian’s favorite smiles—hidden if you didn’t know exactly where to look. He was so caught up in the sight of it that it took him by surprise when Lan Wangji suddenly sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wah! Where are you going?”

“I will return,” Lan Wangji promised, and exited the room.

Wei Wuxian sulked at his absence, but hastily grabbed the ruined top sheet and cleaned himself up best he could, then bundled it up with his sweatpants and tossed it on the floor. He’d have to run a load of wash tomorrow, but that was a problem for future Wei Wuxian. He debated wobbling upright, going in search of a drink of water. He could even put on the kettle, make tea—which felt like such an enormous undertaking that he collapsed back down, exhausted.

The water ran in the bathroom, soft clinks muffled through the wall as Lan Wangji moved around. Wei Wuxian realized he was smiling like Mianmian had earlier, dopey and smitten as she recounted the events of her day. It felt like a lifetime ago, that version of himself, cocksure and ignorant. Entirely unaware of the enormity of what bore down upon him in the form of Lan Wangji.

“Oh, hey,” Wei Wuxian said as Lan Wangji returned. He’d meant to display himself provocatively, drape himself across the bed, tease another blush out of Lan Wangji. Instead, Lan Wangji caught him unawares, not even making the floor creak. Wei Wuxian sat upright to greet him. “Oh,” he said again, as Lan Wangji handed him a cup of water.

Wei Wuxian was the one who felt his cheeks heat. After all they had done, this was what rendered him tongue-tied and slightly off-balance. Lan Wangji’s small acts of kindness, so in keeping with the same person who tied him up and bullied him into coming untouched, made Wei Wuxian feel a rush of emotion welling up in his chest.

“You’re the best,” he said, and gulped it gratefully.

There was a warm, damp cloth too, which made Wei Wuxian blush again. After that was taken care of, Lan Wangji climbed back down to sit on the bed, folding his legs beneath him.

“For your wrists,” Lan Wangji said, and produced a small jar of ointment.

Overwhelmed, Wei Wuxian scooted around to face him. He recognized the jar, a healing arnica salve from his own bathroom. Granny Wen made it in bulk, swearing by its medicinal properties. It came in handy surprisingly often, for his own bumps and bruises, for A-Yuan’s scraped knees.

“I told you,” Wei Wuxian told him. “I bruise like a peach.”

Lan Wangji blushed like a peach, gently massaging the salve into the marks on his wrists.

Wei Wuxian inched closer. “Does that turn you on?” he teased, delighted. “Why? Do I look pretty like this? Do you want everyone to see it? Know exactly what you’ve done to me?”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji sounded pained, and so much like his old, sober self that Wei Wuxian tickled him beneath his chin.

“I’m not flirting! I’m just asking, I need to know this information. Lan Zhan, if you’re going to be like this every time in bed, don’t you think I ought to know?”

This time it was Lan Wangji’s dick that had visibly responded, filling out just a little where it was nestled in his lap.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “See, he agrees.”

“Behave,” Lan Wangji admonished.

“Mm-hmm. I am, I am.”

Wei Wuxian contained himself for as long as he could stand it. Lan Wangji finished with his wrists, and Wei Wuxian swung a leg across him, seating himself in his lap, arm draped around Lan Wangji’s neck.

“Look up here, look at me,” Wei Wuxian said seriously, getting Lan Wangji to meet his gaze, then cupped his face and kissed him.

It was slow that time, sweet, a little sticky, exactly the kind of first kiss that Wei Wuxian had always envisioned when he spun his Lan Zhan fantasies. Lan Wangji kissed him back, tasting like mouthwash, smelling like sex—Wei Wuxian had to revise, once again, his list of favorite Lan Zhan scents. It was heady like this, to kiss him without pretense or mischief, their bare skin pressed together. The urgency with which they’d attacked each other before had been (mostly) sated. There was time to just explore, to tease. To conduct a conversation back and forth with their tongues. To kiss from every different angle, joined at the mouth, letting the arousal bloom again and ripen in its own sweet, steady time.

Lan Wangji laid them back down on bed. He fit perfectly, there in the cradle of Wei Wuxian’s hips. Wei Wuxian octopussed around him, keeping him where he belonged, wishing he could grow eight extra limbs. And then he said that out loud, since he never had to withhold even the weirdest thoughts in his head from Lan Wangji.

It something else, to have their dicks touching, chests pressed together, and feel Lan Wangji gently shake with laughter.

“Wouldn’t that be fun?” Wei Wuxian asked him. “Haven’t you ever seen tentacle porn?”

“I have not,” Lan Wangji said.

“Ohh, er-gege, I’ve got sooo much to show you,” Wei Wuxian said, hitching his legs up higher around Lan Wangji’s waist.

“Yes, I remember what you said you were going to teach me,” Lan Wangji said dryly.

Wei Wuxian threw his head back and laughed. Lan Wangji nipped at his neck, adding another mark to his burgeoning collection. When the fit of laughter subsided, Wei Wuxian hugged him tight.

“Think you could get it up again?” he asked. “All the way, I mean?”

He was rewarded with a change of color on Lan Wangji’s face.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, feeling what Lan Wangji’s dick did between them. What his own dick did in answer was nobody’s business. “I, uhh… I really wasn’t joking before,” he said, more seriously. The words came out of his mouth at the same moment he realized how deeply he meant them. “Lan Zhan, I’d really like to—can’t we do it, at least once?”

Lan Wangji pulled back to look at him.

Wei Wuxian blushed crimson. He reminded himself that it was safe to tell Lan Wangji anything. “You wanted to, I could tell. And I never—not on the first date,” he amended primly, for the sake of his reputation. “But I want to do that,” he said. “With you. Don’t you want to do that, with me?”

Lan Wangji had stopped blinking. Wei Wuxian waved a hand in front of his face.

“Earth to gege,” he said. “Lan Zhan, say something. Are you going to freak out on me?”

Lan Wangji kissed him so fiercely that Wei Wuxian blanked out a moment. It really was like being drowned by a hungry, angry monster. Wei Wuxian let himself be mauled and kissed, grinning broadly when they finally came up for air.

“Okay, loving the enthusiasm,” he praised. “Now stick it in me.”

“Wei Ying.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” said Wei Wuxian, who hadn’t been kidding at all. “Don’t be an uptight virgin now. I’m the one who’s about to have the giant stick up his ass.”

Lan Wangji shut his eyes. Wei Wuxian cackled, enormously pleased with himself for that one. He wriggled enticingly.

“Come on, how do you want me? Like before?” He started to roll onto his hands and knees.

“No,” Lan Wangji said, keeping Wei Wuxian flat on his back beneath him.

“Like this? Oh, okay.” Wei Wuxian could work with that. He kissed Lan Wangji, a bit less aggressively that time, and said, “Raise up a little, let me touch you.”

Lan Wangji obeyed him. Wei Wuxian reached down between them, and oh, that was new. It hadn’t felt anything like that when he’d pawed at Lan Wangji before, half-clothed in the bathroom. What with his hands tied and all the unexpected twists and turns of events, he hadn’t even touched Lan Wangji properly yet. It was even better than Wei Wuxian had let himself imagine. His cock was thick, slightly curved, silk-smooth, warm as a furnace. Touching it was like experiencing the opposite of Lan Wangji’s face: so expressive, so responsive, so damp and eagerly flushed.

“You must really like me, huh?” Wei Wuxian whispered, partly teasing, partly awed. He stroked up and down until Lan Wangji had leaked all over his hand, slick as Wei Wuxian could get him. “Ready?” he asked, breathless.

With the kind of restraint Lan Wangji was infamous for, he took a steadying breath and stilled Wei Wuxian’s hand. “You are not,” he replied hoarsely.

“I really think I am,” Wei Wuxian said. “You’re wet enough for the both of us.”

Lan Wangji squeezed his eyes shut again, which was extremely endearing. Wordlessly, he reached down, pressing a blunt finger against Wei Wuxian for the second time that evening.

“’Kay, ’kay, ’kay, you made your point,” Wei Wuxian said, gasping. The stretch and burn felt… not unappealing, but that was one slim finger, not the sizable appendage he held in his palm.

Lan Wangji twisted away, searching the bed behind him, then returned with the pot of salve.

“Oh hey,” Wei Wuxian said. “Yeah! That should work, great idea.”

“Do you have a different lubricant?” Lan Wangji asked him, so cute and serious.

Wei Wuxian blushed. “Uhhhh… no.” He gestured. “My dick gets really wet, I just usually use that when I get off.”

Lan Wangji’s own dick reaction, once again, did not match the reaction on his face. Wei Wuxian felt elated—he was going to use this secret knowledge against him all the time now.

“I don’t have condoms either. I wasn’t really, um—planning for this to happen tonight,” Wei Wuxian said sheepishly. He wracked his brain for the proper protocol, now that reality was asserting itself in this way. “If that matters to you, we, uh—we can stop. I’m good, though. There’s no way—I haven’t been with anyone in the past six months,” he recited, which was what his doctor always asked him.

“Nor have I,” Lan Wangji said.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said. “Oh, that’s good,” he said casually, ignoring the way his stomach swooped in happiness, and the way his dick tried to act like it had been injected with truth serum too. “Well, I trust you,” he said with his whole heart, no lie detector needed. “If you’re clean and I’m clean, I’m good. But if you—”

“I trust you too,” Lan Wangji said, like that could never be in question.

Wei Wuxian stared back, holding Lan Wangji’s gaze. He felt something shift in his chest, some deeper alignment with the reality of what he was really asking for, what he so desperately wanted. He felt unmoored, yet oddly anchored, like a ship rocking on the waves but still within the harbor, safe.

They kissed again, reaching for each other, the transition to the next step awkward any other way. Lan Wangji spread him out on the bed and knelt between his legs, dipping his fingers in the salve. Without further preamble, just another long kiss, he reached down between them.

Wei Wuxian sucked in a breath, hips canting upwards.

“Ohfuckthatfeelsweird,” he blurted out, and laughed.

The salve was cool, a little ticklish. Lan Wangji spread it around, circling his rim with each pass until two fingers fit nicely, sliding in and out with ease. Wei Wuxian gasped again, jolting as a third finger suddenly joined them, as intense and abrupt as Lan Wangji apparently did everything.

“Too much?” Lan Wangji asked him, already breathing a little raggedly.

Wei Wuxian nodded, trying to adjust, then clamped down to prevent Lan Wangji from doing anything stupid, like pulling out of him. He locked his arms tightly around Lan Wangji’s neck. “Er-gege, it’s too much, it really hurts,” he said helplessly, basking internally at the look on Lan Wangji’s face.

Sure enough, the fingers inside him twitched, pressing deeper. Wei Wuxian produced a pained whimper, then a moan that was entirely genuine as Lan Wangji brushed against that electric spot inside him again.

“Fuck,” he said, with feeling, arching up off the bed. He felt so full already, too full to move, even as his body ignored him and began to meet Lan Wangji’s hand, rocking back and forth. “Right there, right there,” he said, teaching Lan Wangji’s fingers exactly where to go.

Fuck, this was amazing. They were so good at this. Sex. Sex was so great. Why hadn’t Lan Wangji been fucking him for years, if it felt as good as this? He could have done this the night they met—taken Wei Wuxian home, tied him to the bed, railed him into the mattress eight times by morning. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day, but he’d still be so desperate for it. He’d beg Lan Wangji for more. He’d cry, he’d say—

“—Aaaaaaahhhh!” Wei Wuxian cried out.

Three things happened at once: Lan Wangji pulled his fingers out, lined up and shoved his dick in, and Wei Wuxian realized that he’d said most of that out loud.

His spine lit up like a firecracker, the lower half of his body nearly split in two. It fucking hurt. Wei Wuxian hadn’t been lying, he didn’t do this every day—there wasn’t enough salve in the world to make the shock anything but sudden and painful, too much for his poor, helpless body. Lan Wangji should be held criminally responsible for having a dick of that proportion. Wei Wuxian moaned and tried to speak, successfully getting out one broken syllable, and then cried out again as Lan Wangji pressed in deeper.

There was more? Wei Wuxian realized that, actually, he only had just the tip inside him. Tears leaked from his eyeballs. He got out a few more breathless syllables that time: “No, no, wait, stop—”

With effort, Lan Wangji stilled above him. Then, seeing Wei Wuxian’s face, began to withdraw, which hurt as much as going deeper.

“No no no!” Wei Wuxian stopped him, locking his legs tight around Lan Wangji’s waist.

“If it hurts—”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Wei Wuxian said, gasping. Even his back hurt, so he arched, which had the effect of shifting Lan Wangji inside him.

“Stop moving,” Lan Wangji said through gritted teeth, “if you do not want me to—”

“I want you to! No—” Wei Wuxian stopped him again.

Lan Wangji glistened beautifully in the lamplight, exasperated and sweaty.

“I just need—” Wei Wuxian said, and realized he had no clue. “What do I do?”

“Relax,” Lan Wangji said.

“I’m relaxed, I’m relaxed!” Wei Wuxian tensed up and gasped as Lan Wangji shifted in another increment.

Lan Wangji paused again, looking tortured. “We cannot stay like this.”

“We can. We’ll just live like this and die like this,” Wei Wuxian said reasonably. Where was that fucking spot that felt so good before? Biting his lip, he squirmed a little, in search of an angle that felt a bit less like dying. Lan Wangji was trembling with the effort of holding back, and it caught Wei Wuxian’s attention. It was his heart, not his body, that broke in pieces. He rallied himself, murmuring, “Gege, how does it feel, does it feel really good inside me?”

Lan Wangji shut his eyes. “I cannot—”

“Don’t hold back. Lan Zhan, kiss me. Look at me. I’ll be all better if you just kiss me, I promise.”

Lan Wangji did one of those things. He did not open his eyes, but he leaned down and sealed their mouths together. Wei Wuxian kissed him fervently, pouring all the anguish he felt into the heat of the kiss. He hadn’t known what he was talking about, making up something to do just to help Lan Wangji feel better, but it really did work—his entire body melted, relaxing, easing around the enormous intrusion. As their tongues fucked, his hips began to move of their own accord, little halting, helpless shudders as he drew Lan Wangji in.

“You’re so good, you feel so good,” Wei Wuxian chanted into his mouth—and then it was true. The discomfort receded. Lan Wangji, inside him, began to grow slicker as he went, easing the way until Wei Wuxian was meeting each thrust. They kissed clumsily, breathlessly, every roll of their hips bringing Wei Wuxian’s dick in brief contact with his abdomen. It might have flagged at some point—he hadn’t really been paying that part any attention—but he was fully hard now, producing a little drop of precome that announced his cock was back in the game, aching for attention again.

“Isn’t this good?” Wei Wuxian said with a little breathless laugh, so many things happening in his body that he had to run his mouth—either that or explode. Lan Wangji’s hips had begun to move properly now, making little smacking, wet sex noises. Delight bubbled out of him. “I’m so tight but you still fit. I told you you’d fit, gege.”

Wei Wuxian had said no such thing—in fact most of what he’d cried had been the opposite, during the recent moment of crisis. He felt that didn’t matter now.

“You came so much before, Lan Zhan. If you come that much again, I’ll—ahhhh—I’ll be so full I can’t walk tomorrow without it all dripping out of me.”

“…Stop…talking filth,” Lan Wangji pleaded.

Wei Wuxian grinned, raking his hands down Lan Wangji’s back, pressing him closer. “But you love it when I talk filth,” he murmured into Lan Wangji’s ear. “Just like I love you when you’re angry.”

He hissed through his teeth as Lan Wangji’s thrusts increased their speed and intensity. Then he sucked and bit Lan Wangji’s earlobe, now flushed a fiery, dangerous red. Then he kissed and sucked down his neck, since two could play at that game.

“Just like that,” he murmured, “that’s right. Be a good boy and show me how much you like it—”

It was really too much, how easily Lan Wangji could be goaded. Wei Wuxian wanted nothing more than to see him finally lose control. He felt wild himself, out of control, pouring more words into Lan Wangji’s ear, more breathless with each thrust.

“Go a little deeper—ahh, that’s it. I can feel you so deep it hurts. Could you even stop if I begged you? Don’t you need it so much you’d just—? Ow, ow, ow!” he yelped for real.

Lan Wangji thrust in so deep that Wei Wuxian was rammed halfway across the bed. He grabbed the sheets for purchase. He hadn’t truly thought Lan Wangji could fuck him any deeper. He’d been wrong, tears springing once again to his eyes, legs falling open eagerly, sending confused signals to his brain.

“I have learned—I’ve learned my lesson,” he begged.

“You have not,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian whimpered. His throat sounded raw, like Lan Wangji had been fucking him there instead. That image sent a fresh stab of heat through him—Wei Wuxian filed it away for future reference. Next time he’d get down on his knees. Next time, he’d— next time. He floated there for a moment, head filling with all the things he could get Lan Wangji to do. What if there were a hundred next times? A thousand? What if they just fucked like this and never stopped? He could die like this, happy.

“…Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian smiled at him messily, hugging him close, bent in half at the waist. “Come inside me,” he whispered, making the offer again.

Lan Wangji kissed him, so hard his bruised lips would match the rest of the bruises on his skin. Wei Wuxian’s whole body sang with it, riding the sharp edge between pleasure and pain. He wanted—so much. He wanted everything. He stroked Lan Wangji’s hair, urging their bodies together, urging him on with his words. His cheeks were wet, his heart wide open, when Lan Wangji finally made a soft, wrecked sound and came, buried deep inside him.

Everything floated after that. Wei Wuxian came too, again, probably, from Lan Wangji’s hand. Those hands kept touching him, holding him. Soft lips pressed a hundred tiny kisses all over his face. A warm, wet cloth cleaned up his body. More soft, tiny kisses. He drifted, so warm and happy, until strong arms wrapped around him, tucked a blanket over him, and he fell blissfully asleep.

Chapter Text

“Wei Ying,” a voice said, floating across the water.

The sun was warm, kissing his back, the breeze cooling his skin, riffling like fingers through his hair. He was drifting on the current, dozing face-down in a skiff on the brightest, warmest summer day. There was the faint lap of water, the gentle creak of the boat, the oars knocking in their moorings. Lotus blossoms bloomed all around him, the air humid and sweet.

“Hmmmm?” he murmured, unwilling to budge from his nap.

“Wei Ying.”

That didn’t sound like his jie. If he was drifting in the lake, it would be jie, not Lan Zhan, calling his name. She’d call him from the shore, just like when they were kids, bringing him a bowl of fresh, cold watermelon, scolding him for staying too long in the sun. A smile curved his lips, the treasured memory drifting to the surface in his mind. It felt like safety, like comfort, like belonging, like home.

“Wei Ying,” came the deep voice again. A hand rested on his back, gently shaking him.

Wei Wuxian grunted, pressing his face into the pillow, which was hard and warm as he nuzzled. A hand stroked through his hair.

“S’too early,” he mumbled, then rubbed his eyes open. Disoriented, he unstuck his face from the odd, solid… human pillow. “…La—Lan Zhan?” he said, bewildered.

He might still be dreaming. Lan Wangji eased upright beneath him, his hair mussed from sleep, his torso bare down to the blanket that fell around their waists. His eyes were as soft and warm as Wei Wuxian had ever seen them.

He felt his own face melt into a dumb, happy smile. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Wei Ying. There is someone at your door.”

“Huh?” Wei Wuxian said.

He stopped halfway across the short distance between them, lips aimed for Lan Wangji’s lips.

“Someone is knocking,” Lan Wangji said.

“Xian-ge?” called a muffled, worried voice, then the knocking resumed.

That had been the noise in the background of his dream, not boats and oars in the water. “Fuck!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. He crawled across Lan Wangji, kicking off the blankets. Sun was peeking through the curtains, flooding the room. How long had he slept, not hearing his phone, or the knocking, or… anything? “Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s Wen Ning.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji called after him urgently.

Wei Wuxian turned back at the door.

“Clothes,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian looked down at himself. Ah, right. He was naked. He’d woken up on Lan Wangji’s chest, who was very, very naked, and he was also very, very naked, which meant that his cock had woken up before he had, far more alert than he was. Right now, he could be rubbing up on Lan Wangji, demanding to be kissed and petted after what he’d suffered last night, finding out what he could get away with in the morning. It really wasn’t fair, to be kicked out of bed like this. He winced and dug through the pile of clean laundry, donning whatever he found, ignoring the way his body twinged and ached in a dozen new, marvelous places.

“So… ha ha ha, funny story,” he said, muffled inside a t-shirt, tugging it over his head. “I’m supposed to have A-Yuan today, ’cause it’s Monday. The shop’s closed on Monday. I’ve probably got three hundred missed calls.” He tossed aside something that glittered, then hopped on one foot, tugging on a pair of jeans. “Who knows where the hell my phone is. Someone,” he jabbed a finger in Lan Wangji’s direction, “did unspeakable things to me last night, and now I’m probably knocked up, and I’ve abandoned my firstborn child, and he’ll never forgive me!”

Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in despair, then looked back to see if any of this was making Lan Wangji blush. Instead, he found himself exclaiming, “Aiya, no! What are you doing?”

Lan Wangji paused where he had risen from the bed, starting to cross the room, stark naked and glorious.

“No, no, no, no,” Wei Wuxian said, pushing Lan Wangji backwards, seating him back down on the bed. As an afterthought, he piled the blanket in his lap, once he’d snuck an eyeful. “You stay right here. Don’t let them see you. I’ll think of something.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said with great forbearance.

Wei Wuxian kissed his forehead, then blew him another kiss from the doorway, then shut the door behind him. He caught his breath for a second, rubbing his hands on his face, then called out, “I’m coming!”

Wen Ning had his hand raised, mid-knock, when Wei Wuxian swung the door open.

“Good morning,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “Where’s my little bean sprout?” He dropped down on one knee, opening his arms for a hug.

Wen Yuan, not a morning person either, detached himself from Wen Ning’s leg. He lifted his arms and let Wei Wuxian scoop him up, hugging his neck and resting a heavy, sleepy head on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

“That kind of morning, huh?” Wei Wuxian agreed. He turned back to Wen Ning. “My, uh—my phone died. I think. Did you call?”

Wen Ning nodded. “It’s fine, though,” he was quick to assure. “We’re not too late. We haven’t missed the bus.” He handed over Wen Yuan’s backpack and a container of zeng gao. “He didn’t eat all his breakfast, so Popo sent this. And make sure he takes a nap this afternoon. He was up past—”

“No nap,” A-Yuan objected.

“But I’m so tired,” Wei Wuxian whined, pretending to droop and drop him, which made A-Yuan cling tighter, burrowing into Wei Wuxian’s neck, unamused.

Wen Ning caught his eye meaningfully and mouthed the word nap. Wei Wuxian nodded. He wasn’t that big a pushover. He could handle a bossy three-year-old. He used to be a bossy three-year-old. He knew all their tricks.

“I’ll take a nap while A-Yuan washes all the dishes,” he promised out loud.

A-Yuan said crankily, “No dishes!” Then he stirred and sat upright. Rubbing his eyes, more awake, he said bashfully, “Rich-gege?”

Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning both turned. Lan Wangji emerged from the direction of Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, hair neatly brushed, dressed in a different assortment of clothes from the pile of clean laundry. Clothes that were clearly not Lan Wangji’s own: all black, a bit too snug on his slightly broader frame, a glimpse of bare wrists showing.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, a dry click in the back of his throat. “Ha ha, you’re awake,” he greeted Lan Wangji, too loudly. “I, uh—probably kept you awake all night, snoring from the couch!”

It was the best he could do at this hour of morning. Lan Wangji looked at him, amused, eyes still soft and warm as honey, not even bothered by the lie. “Mn,” he agreed, composed as ever.

Wei Wuxian grinned at him helplessly, then handed A-Yuan over, who’d tipped his whole weight in Lan Wangji’s direction, arms outstretched.

“Hello,” Lan Wangji said, stoically returning A-Yuan’s clinging hug.

“Wah,” Wei Wuxian pouted. “Forget all about me then.” He turned back to Wen Ning, who snapped his mouth shut, gaze darting back and forth between them.

Wei Wuxian sighed, shooting several daggers at him with his eyes. Wen Ning blinked in response, then his eyes widened at the sight of Wei Wuxian’s neck, now exposed without A-Yuan’s arms wrapped around him. His gaze flicked down to Wei Wuxian’s clothes, then up to Wei Wuxian’s hair, then widened again at the sight of Wei Wuxian’s wrists.

Well, fuck, Wei Wuxian thought. At least it wasn’t Wen Qing, who’d debone him like a fish, extracting the entire truth of the matter right in front of Lan Wangji.

“So yeah,” Wei Wuxian said brightly. “That’s Lan Zhan. He slept here last night. Slept it off here last night. You know, after drinking.”

“Oh, good!” Wen Ning said, doing his own best attempt at natural, innocent conversation.

“Yep!” Wei Wuxian said. “Yep, it was great. We got back here and, uh, had a really good night’s sleep!”

He glanced over his shoulder. Lan Wangji was no longer there—he’d carried A-Yuan toward the living room, “mn”-ing as A-Yuan began to launch into a sleepy digression about frogs. Wen Ning backed up, startled, as Wei Wuxian grabbed him by the elbow, half steering him, half dragging him out the door into the hallway.

“Okay. Ha ha ha. First of all, shut up. This is not what it looks like.”

Wen Ning’s alarm increased slightly, gaze darting back down to Wei Wuxian’s mauled neck.

“Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like,” Wei Wuxian conceded. He winced. “But Wen Ning. Wen-xiong. A-Ning. You cannot tell your sister.”

“You don’t want my sister to know?” Wen Ning fretted.

Wei Wuxian inwardly groaned. It wasn’t that Wen Ning could not be trusted with secrets, it was just that confiding in him meant you might as well write it in ink across his forehead. Wen Qing would know by lunchtime.

“Just… let me tell her myself,” Wei Wuxian bargained, which might gain him a few hours if Wen Ning thought it was not a secret, just news he wanted to share first.

Wen Ning nodded, his eyes shining. “Does that mean you’re…?”

“Ha ha ha!” Wei Wuxian said. He announced for the benefit of any listening ears, “Well, don’t keep Popo waiting, you’ll miss the bus! I’ve got it from here. See you later, A-Ning!”

“Xian-ge—”

Wei Wuxian shut the door in his face, then leaned against it heavily.

Well, that went well. Granny Wen would be on Wen Ning like a hawk, but that was Wen Ning’s problem. And Granny Wen didn’t text, and Wen Qing was on shift at the clinic until that afternoon… he gave himself fifty-fifty odds of surviving the morning intact.

Voices drifted around the corner, A-Yuan’s indistinct chatter, punctuated with Lan Wangji’s monosyllables, thoughtful and brief. Wei Wuxian listened for a moment, smiling to himself, then with A-Yuan safely occupied, he ducked back down the hall to tend to a few necessities.

The bathroom, he discovered, had survived the night in even worse shape than he had. Their clothes were strewn on the floor, the abandoned towels still damp, the broken sink hanging tragically askew. Wei Wuxian surveyed the sight with awe, mentally rehearsing the lecture he was going to give Lan Wangji, the payback and punishment he’d extract. At least the room hadn’t flooded—Lan Wangji, such a good boy, must have shut off the leaking pipe on one of his trips to the bathroom. Thankfully, the shower and toilet were still in working order, so Wei Wuxian relieved himself and washed up in quick succession. He wet his toothbrush beneath the showerhead, swishing it around in his mouth, starting to collect the towels off the floor when he suddenly froze, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

No wonder Wen Ning had stared. His hair looked like a particularly industrious rat had built a nest there. His t-shirt was on inside-out. He looked… he looked like someone who had survived exactly what had happened, the loose v-neck not even close to hiding the array of vibrant hickeys decorating his pale throat.

He spit out the toothpaste, then leaned in, touching one with fascination. Hissing softly at the now-familiar sting, he poked another, then caught sight of the state of his wrists.

He waited for shame that didn’t come. There was no room for it in his chest. Snatches came back to him from the night before, odd streaks and blurs of moments, things he’d said and done. He watched his face blush pink, but that wasn’t shame either. Just giddy warmth and pleasure, blooming deep beneath his ribs.

Voices still floated at him down the hall as he cleaned up the floor, stuffing the clothes and towels in the washing machine, adding the sheets and robe from the bedroom. He tidied the bed—well, tossed a blanket across the bare mattress that would need clean sheets later—combed the worst of the tangles out of his hair, and then on impulse, doubled-back to his closet to trade the t-shirt for a lightweight jersey sweater that flattered his frame. He swapped the jeans for dark trousers while he was at it, then, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows, he went to rejoin his guests.

No, he heard A-Yuan explaining patiently, it’s not a horse, it’s a donkey, but horses like to eat lots of apples too.

Smile on his face, Wei Wuxian was about to breeze in and declare that A-Yuan was correct, both horses and donkeys liked apples, when he halted in the doorway instead.

Lan Wangji was seated on the rug in front of his sofa in a textbook-perfect lotus pose, looking somehow regal and completely at home in Wei Wuxian’s old hoodie, a three-year-old perched on his lap, who was unpacking each plush animal from his backpack one by one, introducing them to Lan Wangji by name.

“Hello, Little Apple,” Lan Wangji said to the aforementioned stuffed donkey, and Wei Wuxian’s heart burst like soft fruit. He didn’t know if he looked stunned or just foolish, but at that moment, Lan Wangji glanced up and saw whatever was written on his face. Lan Wangji blinked, holding his gaze for a long, searching moment, then both corners of his mouth very slightly lifted.

Both corners! Before breakfast! Both corners of his mouth!

High on this rare—no, this unprecedented event, Wei Wuxian crashed the party, sprawling across the sofa behind Lan Wangji, booping a kiss on top of each of their heads in greeting. “Good morning!”

“You said good morning already,” A-Yuan pointed out, and then his little brow furrowed. “Is Xian-gege hurt?”

Ah, so he hadn’t concealed his wince as he flopped down as well as he thought. Yes, he fucking hurt, and the fact he wasn’t sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap kissing him about it showed frankly inhuman restraint.

Wei Wuxian tousled A-Yuan’s hair. “Just a little bit,” he said, pinching two fingers close together to show the amount. “Not the bad kind of hurt.”

A-Yuan’s frown deepened. “What’s the bad kind of hurt?”

“Hmm.” Wei Wuxian considered. “When you break your leg. Or scrape your knee. Or a dog bites you.”

A-Yuan’s eyes widened.

“That’s why we watch out for dogs,” Wei Wuxian reminded him.

A-Yuan frowned again, hugging the plush donkey in his lap. “What’s a good kind of hurt?”

“This,” Wei Wuxian said, and pinched his cheek.

A-Yuan giggled, ducking beneath Lan Wangji’s arm.

“And this!” Wei Wuxian pinched his chubby little knee.

A-Yuan burrowed between Lan Wangji and the couch, out of Wei Wuxian’s reach.

“What are you hiding behind him for?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Just because he’s your rich-gege? He’s the one who bites like a dog.”

A-Yuan’s head poked back up, hair disheveled. “Rich-gege bites?”

“Yeah, who do you think did this to me?” Wei Wuxian showed him the rosy bruises all over his neck.

“But biting like a dog is bad,” A-Yuan said, zeroing in on the flaw in that logic. “Rich-gege is bad?”

“No, no, no,” Wei Wuxian said, having backed himself into that particular corner. “Biting is bad, when it’s for real. But… this was playing games, so it’s for fun!”

As expected, playing games got A-Yuan’s attention. “Hiding games?”

“Nope! Kissing games.”

Lan Wangji’s reactions to this conversation were delightful to chart—a stiffening set to his shoulders, a flush that crept up the back of his neck, staining the lobes of his ears. They were currently a very precious shade of peach, but Wei Wuxian was aiming for fuchsia, or the ultimate prize—scalded lobster red—so he continued to ramble.

“Um, not games for kids. Grown-up games,” he said quickly. “You only play with someone you like very, very much.”

A-Yuan looked at Lan Wangji for verification, like he often did with Wen Qing. “Mn,” Lan Wangji said stiffly, not making eye contact. Wei Wuxian snickered to himself.

“And it’s for grown-ups,” he emphasized, realizing belatedly that he may have opened a rather serious can of worms. “So the rules are a secret ’til you’re a grown-up. And you can only play with other grown-ups. That’s why me and Lan Zhan can play it, but you can’t.”

“Oh,” A-Yuan said, in a tone that indicated they were not done with this line of inquiry.

“But we can still play… hiding games! You first!”

Wei Wuxian bailed himself out of this particular pickle, covering his eyes and starting to count. The ruse worked. He heard a frantic thump and then the patter of little feet darting out of the room. He peeked, and when the coast was clear, he hugged Lan Wangji from behind, draping his arms down across Lan Wangji’s chest. “Good morning,” he murmured into his ear.

The pretty earlobe had gone from peach to strawberry pink. Wei Wuxian nibbled on it, then kissed it, just to feel Lan Wangji tense beneath his hands. Happiness bubbled within him at the secret knowledge that Lan Wangji was so thick-faced in bed, and still so thin-faced out of it.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji warned, as Wei Wuxian nudged down the zipper on the hoodie to slip his hand inside. There was nothing beneath it, just the silk of Lan Wangji’s skin, very warm, his pulse skittering.

“Ah, but this is how I know how Lan Zhan really feels,” Wei Wuxian said, resting a hand over his heart. “Or… this…?”

His hand slid downwards. Lan Wangji caught it before he could reach his destination.

“Wah,” Wei Wuxian sulked. “Are you going to be an uptight virgin like this again? After what you did to me last night?”

He checked the progress on Lan Wangji’s ear. Still strawberry, with maybe a hint of dark cherry.

“There are children…” Lan Wangji said.

“There’s just A-Yuan, and he’s hiding.”

Wei Wuxian ceased, nonetheless—it wouldn’t do him any good either to start something he couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” he said seriously, propping his head on his hand. “Sorry about—all of this.” He gestured. “I really completely forgot I had A-Yuan today. I’m sure that wasn’t the most ideal, or sexy, or romantic way to wake up.”

Lan Wangji shifted his lotus pose several degrees in Wei Wuxian’s direction, dislodging a few of A-Yuan’s animals. “I do not mind.”

“Of course not.” Wei Wuxian beamed at him, eyes squooshing into crescents. “You’re way too good for that. I just meant… you probably have a whole morning routine, you know, and better things to do with your day.”

It was the first proper look he’d gotten at Lan Wangji since last night, fully awake, up close and in daylight. There was a bite on his neck too, not as vivid, but unmistakable. A faint trail of scratches disappeared into his collar. Wei Wuxian had no clear memory of making them, but warmth pooled in his belly to see the evidence he had longed for… Wei Wuxian was here. He reached out to trace the marks.

“I do not,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian’s hand paused. “You don’t what?”

“Have better things to do,” Lan Wangji said.

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian smiled. “That’s good then,” he said, and leaned in and kissed him. He cupped the side of his neck, and that was completely new too—kissing Lan Wangji in broad daylight. He’d only barely gotten used to kissing him in the dark, and this was an entirely different monster—sweet, chaste, soft lips parting. Their mouths began to move together, but his hand didn’t even get the chance to slide into Lan Wangji’s hair before Lan Wangji pulled back.

In the doorway, a little voice said, “You didn’t come find me.”

“I just finished counting!” Wei Wuxian protested.

A-Yuan looked betrayed. “Was that kissing games again?”

“Ha ha ha ha, no!” Wei Wuxian suppressed another wince, more successfully that time, as he bounded to his feet. He scooped A-Yuan up and squeezed him, then tickled him and hung him upside down, until the kid gurgled with laughter. “It’s still your turn, but I caught you! That was my devious plan!”

A-Yuan hiccuped with laughter, and Wei Wuxian, duly forgiven, flipped him upright to whisper in his ear.

“Wanna know a secret?”

A-Yuan nodded eagerly.

“Rich-gege’s favorite game is hiding. But he doesn’t have anyone to play with him! So what if it’s his turn now?”

A-Yuan nodded again eagerly.

“Okay, Lan Zhan, you have to hide!” Wei Wuxian covered A-Yuan’s eyes and started counting. “One… two… three…”

Lan Wangji, rooted to the spot, was speechless. Wei Wuxian kept counting as he kicked a blanket over Lan Wangji. It engulfed him, looking ridiculous, just a Lan Wangji-shaped lump in the middle of the room. He reached ten and set A-Yuan loose, spinning him first so the fun of the game was how he wobbled, and toppled, and giggled madly, and crawled up, and tottered over to “find” Lan Wangji.

“You win!” Wei Wuxian cheered as A-Yuan tangled himself trying to remove the blanket, but successfully revealed Lan Wangji, mussed and solemn.

“C’mon,” A-Yuan said, tugging with both hands to pull Lan Wangji to his feet, which was adorable given their resulting height difference. “I have to show you! Where I hide!”

“C’mon, Lan Zhan, he has to show you where he hides!” Wei Wuxian echoed, until A-Yuan explained sternly that he, Xian-gege, could not come. He had to count; they had to hide.

Wei Wuxian mock-pouted, but acquiesced. “Fine! But I’m counting fast,” he warned.

“No! You can’t count fast! That’s not the rules!”

“Can too! One-two-three-four-five-six…”

“Close your eyes!” A-Yuan yelped, and shoved with all his might to march Lan Wangji from the room.

It was indeed as hilarious as Wei Wuxian could have hoped for, finding Lan Wangji “hidden” all around his apartment. Lan Wangji committed to the game without complaint, attempting to fold himself into various nooks and crannies, his long limbs refusing to fit. A-Yuan kept bossing him around, showing him how to hide better, curling up like a pillbug in the tightest corners, but soon the game devolved into tag out of necessity. They chased A-Yuan around, then chased Lan Wangji around, then finally chased Wei Wuxian around, until, out of necessity again, the game devolved into breakfast. Wei Wuxian made tea, fixed bowls of hot dry noodles for himself and Lan Wangji, along with the zeng gao for A-Yuan, and they sat around the low table munching on fried rice buns and discussing their plans for the day.

“How about the park?” Wei Wuxian suggested, reclining on three different cushions.

A-Yuan, perched on Lan Wangji’s lap, pushed sweaty hair out of his face. Silently, Lan Wangji tidied his hair for him, combing it off his forehead.

“No,” A-Yuan said, stuffing a sticky bite in his mouth. “Animals.”

“Animals. At the zoo?”

A-Yuan shook his head.

“At the museum?”

A-Yuan shook his head again, chewing and swallowing his bite first. “Farm!” he exclaimed impatiently.

Ah, the farm. Wen Yuan’s current favorite day trip. Wei Wuxian had made the mistake of taking him along on one of his errands, tasked with acquiring a list of locally-sourced ingredients for Granny Wen and Fourth Uncle, and now A-Yuan dreamed of little else. There had been animals, and nice farmers, and acres and acres of vegetables, and A-Yuan was describing it all now in rapturous terms, as if Lan Wangji might have lived his whole life without knowing such wondrous things existed.

“Aiya, A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian said when he could get a word in edgewise. “Lan Zhan probably has lots of other things to do today. He might not be able to go with us.”

A-Yuan turned a devastated look at him. Wei Wuxian, reaching for a rice bun, blinked and leaned backwards, not expecting the gaze that Lan Wangji fixed on him would look as betrayed as A-Yuan’s.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, placatingly. “It’s Monday. Don’t you have to work?”

“I do not,” Lan Wangji said.

A-Yuan bounced up and down on his knee. “We can go to the farm?”

“It’s a real farm,” Wei Wuxian warned Lan Wangji, gesturing up and down at his pristine existence. “Lots of dirt and poop and smelly animals.”

A-Yuan giggled at the word poop. Wei Wuxian beamed with pride at this child he was raising so well.

“I would like to see it,” Lan Wangji declared.

Wei Wuxian threw up his hands. “All right then,” he said. “We’re going to the farm! Eat up and get your boots on!”

A-Yuan cheered as he began to cram the rest of his bun in his tiny mouth.

“Eat slowly. Do not choke,” Lan Wangji cautioned him, and A-Yuan sighed and nodded.

“That’s right, listen to him,” Wei Wuxian chimed in, which, with his mouth full, came out more like: “Mmmff mfff, mfffmmf mf mmf.”

“You as well,” Lan Wangji told him with a meaningful look. Wei Wuxian cackled and obediently swallowed the rest of the bite, showing Lan Wangji his tongue.

There was a train ride and a bus ride and a short hike up the road that had them dusty and disheveled before even they reached their destination. The rain the night before had washed the sky a clear bright blue, the day just chilly enough for coats and scarves, but pleasant in the sunshine. A-Yuan sang a little song to himself, detouring through the mud puddles, stomping each one with his boots, already muddy to his knees in a way that would have Wen Qing scolding Wei Wuxian for his terrible parental negligence.

“Aiya, don’t get mud on Lan Zhan, little piglet,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, chasing A-Yuan away from a giant mud puddle until he squealed. Wei Wuxian scooped him up, angling the muddy boots away from him, then said suddenly, “Smile, I want a picture!”

He pulled out his phone, crowding them into the frame next to Lan Wangji, and snapped a selfie in front of the rolling fields.

“Do silly faces!” A-Yuan requested, and so Wei Wuxian snapped another, crossing his eyes, A-Yuan puffing out his cheeks, and Lan Wangji looking as composed and straight-faced as ever, yet ever-so-slightly amused.

“Back so soon?” said the auntie, walking up behind them, unlatching the gate to greet them.

Wei Wuxian put A-Yuan down, recognizing the woman who had been so kind to them last time. “We had to bring a friend today,” he explained. A-Yuan clung to his leg, suddenly shy.

“Well, we have new baby ducklings,” the auntie told them. “And baby rabbits, and lambs. What would you like to see first?”

A-Yuan inhaled in awe.

The answer was: everything. They trooped from what felt like one end of the barnyard to the other. They met the baby ducklings and played with the barn cats, held the lambs and watched the goats, fed the fish in the pond and gave apples to the donkeys that had been out tilling the fields.

“That frog looked just like mine,” A-Yuan informed the auntie, who had become his new best friend somewhere between the lambs and the fish pond. He trailed alongside her on the way to see the foals, zealously stomping a puddle, regaling her with his lengthy commentary on amphibians when an old farm hound suddenly bounded up out of nowhere.

“Aaaaaahh!!!” Wei Wuxian might have shouted at a reasonable volume.

The dog woofed at him, his muzzle too gray to jump on him like a puppy. Before Wei Wuxian could do the rational thing and climb Lan Wangji like a tree, A-Yuan had planted himself, arms wide, to block the dog from Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji had interposed himself between the dog and them both.

“Ha ha ha, it’s okay,” Wei Wuxian said shakily, mostly for A-Yuan’s sake, but he still sagged in relief when the auntie, no questions asked, whistled a sharp command.

The dog whined, his ears pressed flat. Already cowed by Lan Wangji’s gaze, he tucked his tail between his legs and trotted back off behind the hay bales, flopping down to ignore them and resume his nap in peace.

“No more dogs,” A-Yuan assured him when the beast was out of sight, patting Wei Wuxian’s knee, as if Wei Wuxian’s heart needed anything else to withstand this morning.

“Thanks, buddy,” Wei Wuxian said gratefully.

A-Yuan tucked his hand back in Wei Wuxian’s grip, then turned back to the auntie, telling her firmly, “No more dogs.”

“All right,” the auntie chuckled. “We’ll skip the horse barn, and I take it we’ll skip the puppies too?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji agreed.

They toured the fields instead, and the greenhouses, peacefully canine-free, ranging out past the barnyard and the pond. There were freshly tilled plots, well-spaced and tended, a variety of crops just starting to poke up tender green shoots. They went from row to row, plot by plot, Wei Wuxian brimming with curiosity that the auntie was happy to indulge. She asserted that peas and potatoes made the best companion crops; he expressed his strong feelings on radishes. They were conducting a lively debate on the viability of growing lotus roots in this climate when Wei Wuxian also found himself fascinated by their irrigation system, an ingenious mix of ancient and modern techniques. The auntie, flushed with pride, answered his highly technical questions with highly technical answers. They traipsed to the spring, then to the well and back so she could show him first-hand how the whole system worked, including a problem they were having with one of the lower pastures. Wei Wuxian inspected it thoroughly, then offered a couple different suggestions to try.

“You are highly knowledgeable,” the auntie said on their way back, picking their way through the rows.

“Ah, well.” Wei Wuxian shrugged, which was difficult, given that A-Yuan was perched on his shoulders. He’d started dragging his feet halfway through the round trip, saying how much his boots hurt. “I might’ve done this sort of thing, once upon a time. In a past life.”

“He is an environmental scientist,” Lan Wangji informed her, uncharacteristically inserting himself into the conversation. “The best in his field. He should be working at the top agency in the country.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile stiffened slightly on his face. He heard the praise; he took the compliment of Lan Wangji speaking up on his behalf. But he also heard the word should—so like everyone else who had opinions on what he had or had not done with his life. That Wei Wuxian, what was he thinking? He shouldn’t have thrown it all away. He should have learned to play by the rules. What was it all for, anyway? If he hadn’t torpedoed what was destined to be a stellar career… He had heard it all before, so many times. It sat uneasy in his stomach that Lan Wangji harbored those thoughts too. But of course he would—of course he thought Wei Wuxian should be working harder, achieving more. He had his own stellar accomplishments, against which Wei Wuxian’s present life paled.

“Are you in the same field?” the auntie was asking Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“He’s a musician,” Wei Wuxian offered, returning the compliment. “The best in his field. And he does work at the top conservatory in the country.”

The auntie looked back and forth between them, as if wondering, if this were true, how such a pair came to be at her muddy farm on a Monday with a toddler in tow.

“I’m bored,” A-Yuan announced into the silence, slumped over the top of Wei Wuxian’s head.

Wei Wuxian laughed out loud. The auntie chuckled, and Lan Wangji suppressed a small smile.

“Fair enough,” Wei Wuxian said. “Are you really bored, though, or are you hungry?”

A-Yuan thought about it. “I’m tired of walking and my tummy is making hungry noises, but I’m bored too.”

“I knew we should have left you with the baby ducklings,” Wei Wuxian said. “The mama duck would have to feed you.”

“I’m not a baby duckling,” A-Yuan said.

“Hmm. A baby radish,” Wei Wuxian guessed.

“No-o.”

“A baby goat?”

“No.”

“A baby lamb.”

“No.”

“A baby cabbage?”

“I’m not a baby anything,” A-Yuan objected.

“You’re not a baby?! What are you then?”

“I’m a grown-up kid,” A-Yuan said.

Wei Wuxian placed a hand over his heart. “Lan Zhan, did you hear that? My baby’s all grown up!” He sniffed mournfully. “I’ll never be able to carry him on my back again.”

A-Yuan’s fingers dug into his scalp, gripping fistfuls of hair. “Don’t put me down,” he said, alarmed.

“But you’re all grown up, that means you have to carry me on your back,” Wei Wuxian explained.

“I’m not grown up,” A-Yuan protested. “I said I was a grown-up kid.”

“What’s the difference?”

“A grown-up kid is still a kid, just bigger.”

“Ohhhhh,” Wei Wuxian said. “I better plant you in the dirt then, so you can keep growing all the way up, then you can carry me and Lan Zhan!”

He heard the auntie, smiling, murmur to Lan Wangji, “Are they always like this?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji replied without hesitation.

“Well then, you’re very lucky, your husband is great with kids.”

Wei Wuxian flushed to the roots of the hair that A-Yuan was currently pulling out of his scalp. He waited for Lan Wangji to issue either a blunt correction or a flustered demurral.

He did neither.

He simply “mn”-ed politely, walking alongside them as A-Yuan chattered on and on about… something Wei Wuxian didn’t hear.

Back in sight of the farmhouse, they picked a secluded spot for lunch. Wei Wuxian had packed A-Yuan’s backpack with enough snacks to feed them, but the auntie wouldn’t hear of this. She insisted on repaying Wei Wuxian’s help with a basket of food, freshly harvested and prepared from various items grown on the farm. After supplying everything they would need, she excused herself, saying there were things she needed to tend to, but that they should make themselves at home. They did just that, spreading out a blanket in the grass and digging into the picnic. There was even fruit wine, a decent homemade brew that might even meet Fourth Uncle’s begrudging approval.

“Hey, this is tasty,” Wei Wuxian declared, taking a long sip.

He waggled the jar temptingly in front of Lan Wangji’s face. Lan Wangji looked at it, then at Wei Wuxian, meeting his grin with an expression so flat it made Wei Wuxian laugh.

“Yeah, smart,” Wei Wuxian said, basking in the memory of drunk Lan Wangji.

A-Yuan tugged at Lan Wangji’s sleeve. “More,” he requested, his entire portion gone already.

“A-Yuan, where did you put all that?” Wei Wuxian said. “You’re gonna be as tall as I am by tomorrow if you keep eating that much. You’re growing like a weed.”

Wei Wuxian pulled out his phone again. He snapped a picture of A-Yuan sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap, nodding or shaking his head as Lan Wangji refilled his bowl, asking him dish by dish what he wanted.

“Careful, A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian warned him. “Rich-gege wants lots of kids. He might just kidnap you and keep you.”

“Okay,” A-Yuan said, unbothered. He tipped his head back, looking up at the underside of Lan Wangji’s chin. “Can Xian-gege come too?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said.

“And my toys?”

“Yes.”

“And Qing-jiejie? And Ning-gege? And Popo?”

“Okay, A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian interrupted. “I don’t think you understand the concept of kidnapping.”

Sipping the wine, he scrolled through the rest of the photos he’d taken that day, stopping on a particularly good one of A-Yuan perched atop one of the donkeys, Lan Wangji holding him upright.

“Awwww, this is so cute,” Wei Wuxian said, showing Lan Wangji.

“Hey, that’s me!” A-Yuan chirped. “And Little Apple.”

“Little Apple is your stuffed donkey,” Wei Wuxian said.

“But I petted that donkey, and that donkey likes apples too,” A-Yuan pointed out with infallible logic.

“Fine, fine, fine. All donkeys in the world are called Little Apple.” Wei Wuxian scrolled through a few more photos, then selected several, dropped them in the group chat without comment, and put his notifications on mute. “Hey,” he asked Lan Wangji, “do you want any of these? You could send them to your brother.”

Wei Wuxian fully expected Lan Wangji to say no. He’d never been very forthcoming about his family, nor very communicative with them in Wei Wuxian’s presence. Wei Wuxian only knew that an elder brother existed, and that, like himself, they’d been orphaned at a young age, raised by an uncle.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said. “I would like that.”

Wei Wuxian gazed at him for a moment, then smiled. He selected the entire album and shared it to Lan Wangji’s phone, which dinged immediately.

Lan Wangji pulled it out, swiping through each photo in turn, lingering on each one. He then selected three, tapped with his thumb, typed in a contact, and sent them.

Wei Wuxian shamelessly peeked. The message really had gone to Lan Wangji’s brother. A response came swiftly: three dots, and then a chat bubble that read, Wangji, these are lovely! You look like you are having fun. Tell me all about it soon.

“Don’t you need to tell him who we are?” Wei Wuxian teased him, bumping Lan Wangji with his elbow. “Or is this like, your thing? You really do go around picking up random men with children all the time?”

Lan Wangji said simply, “He knows who you are,” and lifted his arms to let A-Yuan climb up out of his lap.

“I’m done,” A-Yuan announced. “Can I go play with the chickens?”

Wei Wuxian blinked, looking over to where a flock of hens and their chicks were grazing free-range in the grass. “Okay,” he said. “But be good. Don’t put your hand in your mouth after it’s been in the dirt.”

A-Yuan nodded solemnly, then grinned, bursting with renewed energy as he took off toward the flock, the first few chicks scattering out of his way.

Wei Wuxian laughed, recording a short video of A-Yuan chasing the pullets around, then pocketed his phone. He stretched out, dropping his head in Lan Wangji’s lap, folding his hands on his chest and closing his eyes, like he fully intended to doze through the afternoon.

After a moment, he peeked one eye open. Lan Wangji had not dislodged him, nor scolded him, nor reacted negatively in any way.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he said, poking a finger at Lan Wangji’s chin. “Are you gonna be like this now?”

“Like what?” Lan Wangji asked him.

“Ummmm… Boring? …Permissive? You haven’t even scolded me once since we got here.”

“Do you wish to be scolded?”

Wei Wuxian squirmed, the sun warm in this particular spot, especially with his coat and scarf. “No, of course not,” he lied. “But aren’t you really being too nice? Er-gege, you’d really let me sleep on your lap in broad daylight?”

Lan Wangji brushed a lock of Wei Wuxian’s hair across his forehead. “If you are tired, then rest,” he said.

Wei Wuxian made a distressed sound.

“You had a long night,” Lan Wangji added.

Wei Wuxian flushed beet red.

“You work hard. You should relax.”

Wei Wuxian folded his arms across his face. “You can’t treat me like this! Don’t be so mean.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers lightly scritched his scalp, like he was a stray barn cat curled up in his lap. “Being nice is mean?”

“Yes! Being mean is mean. Being nice is mean.” Wei Wuxian was aware this didn’t make sense, but neither did Lan Wangji so openly showing any trace of affection. It felt worse than being bullied, honestly. In despair, he changed the subject. “Hey, what did you mean just now?”

“Do not talk while resting,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian poked him for real, pleased at least with the attempt at scolding him. He said seriously, too curious not to pry, “Your brother knows who we are?”

A breeze rippled through the leaves of the walnut tree above them, casting some of its dappled shadows across Lan Wangji’s face.

“Mn,” he said.

“Even A-Yuan?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“I’ve never met him,” Wei Wuxian said. “Your brother, I mean.”

Lan Wangji combed out a tangle in Wei Wuxian’s hair. “I have described you,” he said eventually. “And I… do not have many friends. There is no one he would mistake you for.”

Wei Wuxian’s stomach did something complicated. It fluttered at part of that sentence, but… like his heart, it felt sore too, at the rest. He’d known it, of course. No one with an active social life would be drinking tea in his wine shop five nights out of seven. But as much as he loved the idea of consuming Lan Wangji’s attention, it bothered him that loneliness was something Lan Wangji wore around like a coat.

“I was like that as a child too,” Lan Wangji offered, since Wei Wuxian said nothing, A-Yuan’s shrieks and giggles in the distance. “I am used to it. I prefer it. …Usually.”

“Usually?”

Lan Wangji exhaled a small sigh, a sound more complicated than the tangle he’d worked out of Wei Wuxian’s hair. Wei Wuxian sat up, squirming around to face him, and stretched out on his side, head propped in his hand.

“I’m your friend,” he promised.

Lan Wangji’s brow twitched in a frown, but then he forced a small, polite attempt at a smile. “Mn,” he agreed.

“And A-Yuan is your friend.”

“Mn.”

It was so interesting, how the warmth of Lan Wangji’s eyes could make him look like he was smiling when he wasn’t, but an actual smile that didn’t reach his eyes looked more unhappy than a frown.

“And…” Wei Wuxian said, “…Little Apple is your friend.”

That won him a genuine little twitch of a smile. “Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji murmured.

Wei Wuxian leaned in. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji said, meeting his gaze.

“Well, you’re the one who—”

There was a squawk behind them. Lan Wangji whirled around and Wei Wuxian bolted up to look. A-Yuan had successfully, or accidentally, snagged a chicken by the wing, one who wasn’t keen to play that game. He went down in a heap of squalling, flapping feathers.

“Ai ai ai!” Wei Wuxian was on his feet in an instant. The chicks and pullets scattered, leaving a few indignant hens. A-Yuan was on the ground sobbing as they beat their wings in his face.

Lan Wangji, somehow, covered the distance first. One of the hens had snagged her claw on A-Yuan’s jacket. Lan Wangji disentangled it swiftly, just in time for Wei Wuxian to sweep the distraught child into his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, squeezing A-Yuan tight. He rocked him back and forth, letting A-Yuan cry as hard as he wanted, rubbing his back.

Lan Wangji, who probably didn’t have much experience with how loud a toddler could wail, was still crouched on the ground. He’d frozen in place, clutching the ruffled hen, distractedly soothing her feathers, looking up at them both, nearly as distressed as A-Yuan.

The sight was so ridiculous that Wei Wuxian shook with silent laughter. Lan Wangji frowned at him, his expression clear as day: how he could laugh while A-Yuan cried?

Wei Wuxian nodded down at the sight of him, indicating what was so funny, and Lan Wangji seemed to realize. He was cradling the chicken, who was finally done squawking. It was a picture Wei Wuxian desperately wanted to snap on his phone: himself hugging A-Yuan while Lan Wangji, on his knees, cuddled with ridiculous poultry.

Lan Wangji blushed, the tips of his ears giving him away. With dignity he rose to his feet, then presented the bird to Wei Wuxian. “Chicken,” he offered.

Wei Wuxian lost it. He burst out laughing, still rocking A-Yuan in his arms. A-Yuan, too confused to keep sobbing at that volume, shed fat tears down his face and tried to twist around to see. Wei Wuxian showed him. “Look at your gege. Look at the silly chicken and your gege. See? She was more scared than you were.”

It worked. It took several moments of coaxing and demonstrating, but A-Yuan stroked the hen timidly. Peace thus restored, trauma averted, Lan Wangji released her back to her flock. Wei Wuxian carried A-Yuan to safety, who was already straining over his shoulder to see where “his chicken” had gone.

“Can we take her home?” A-Yuan asked.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said, wiping A-Yuan’s hands and snotty nose on the picnic blanket, checking him for non-existent scratches. “But we can… do something else! Do you want to eat ice cream, or see the rabbits?”

A-Yuan weighed those options gravely, cheeks still streaked with tears. “Both,” he decided.

Wei Wuxian cleaned Lan Wangji up too, plucking feathers out of his hair, brushing dirt off his coat. “Pick one,” he said to A-Yuan. “You can’t have both.”

“He may have both,” Lan Wangji countered.

Wei Wuxian put his hands on his hips. “Oh yeah? Who are you, his mother?”

Loyally, A-Yuan scooted over, attaching himself to Lan Wangji’s leg. “Both,” he agreed, nodding.

Wei Wuxian sighed as Lan Wangji lifted A-Yuan in his arms. “All right, you take him then, I’m done with the both of you,” he declared dramatically, stuffing the picnic things back into the basket.

“Xian-gege, but rabbits,” A-Yuan said, eyes big and round.

“Yeah, ‘but rabbits, but rabbits.’ We’re not taking any rabbits home either,” Wei Wuxian warned him. “No rabbits, no chickens. Qing-jie will kick my butt.”

A-Yuan sniffled and ignored him, beginning to fill Lan Wangji’s ear with how much he liked rabbits and ice cream. Strawberry was his favorite, but bunnies had noses that went wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

Wei Wuxian grabbed A-Yuan’s backpack and the picnic basket and fell into step behind them, already sensing his doom.

“You’re telling Wen Qing, not me,” Wei Wuxian declared, folding his arms across his chest.

The doom he had sensed was A-Yuan, in his fragile emotional state, sobbing broken-hearted all over again when he got attached to the little baby bunnies but then couldn’t take them home.

What he had not foreseen was Lan Wangji sitting on the grass, surrounded by dozens of little white fluff balls, A-Yuan hovering around him, studiously petting and introducing himself to each one.

“All of these have been weaned,” the auntie told them, leaning over the fence. She had reappeared again, apparently recognizing an easy mark when she saw one—either that or Lan Wangji had won her over completely, inquiring at length about habitats and feed, not recipes for rabbit stew.

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian said, since no one had been listening to him for the past hour. “I’m really serious here. I can’t keep rabbits. Popo and jiejie can’t keep rabbits. We are not taking these home.”

“They are low-maintenance pets,” the traitorous auntie informed them.

Wei Wuxian barely refrained from shooting her a glare.

Lan Wangji held up two fluff balls, one in each palm. “Which one?” he asked A-Yuan.

Wei Wuxian fully expected to hear “both!” He was pretty sure there were books out there full of dire warnings about spoiling children like this. But A-Yuan considered each rabbit in turn, petting them gently, and said, “This one,” picking the one in Lan Wangji’s left hand.

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said.

“Hey.” Wei Wuxian blew a shrill whistle. “Over here. Hey! Remember me? Yeah, we’re not adopting rabbits.”

Lan Wangji finally turned to give Wei Wuxian his full attention. “You are not adopting rabbits,” he agreed.

“Good. Great! Now we’re on the same page.” He gave a meaningful nod toward A-Yuan, trying to silently convey to Lan Wangji how disastrous this could turn.

Lan Wangji returned his gaze levelly. “I am adopting rabbits,” he said.

“Yeah, they’re our rabbits, me and rich-gege’s,” A-Yuan informed him, as if disappointed Wei Wuxian could not grasp this simple concept.

“They’ll need a proper hutch at home, but I can give you a basket that you can keep them in temporarily,” the auntie offered.

Wei Wuxian face-palmed with both hands.

They ate ice cream—strawberry for A-Yuan, chocolate for Lan Wangji, spicy mulberry for Wei Wuxian. A-Yuan grew quiet and subdued, licking his ice cream cone in tiny swipes as he kept watch over the rabbits, his arm hooked across the basket, one of the bunnies hopping around inside it, the other one fast asleep.

“You’re still telling Wen Qing,” Wei Wuxian sighed, snapping an adorable picture. He sent it to the group chat again, not bothering to read the slew of responses to the first batch he’d sent.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded, still pleased and undeterred.

A-Yuan fell asleep on the train. Wei Wuxian fell asleep on the train. He woke up on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, rubbing his face awake as A-Yuan slept on like a rock, limp weight in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“My place is closer,” Lan Wangji offered, when the train glided to a stop.

“’Kay,” Wei Wuxian said, and collected the bags and the basket of cabbage and carrots and their pair of pet rabbits. One still hopped exuberantly, thrilled at this adventure as they all disembarked and wound their way back out to the street.

“Wow.” Wei Wuxian whistled under his breath.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. He’d never seen Lan Wangji’s place, but he had pictured it many times—tidy, austere. Painfully clean and white, maybe a fancy high-rise, probably floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the city. What he entered now was a proper home, a small house tucked away in the bustle of the city. It was older, weathered, its roof a little mossy, and beautiful for it—deep, rich wood for the beams, cream-colored walls interspersed with glass, all of it laid out in the traditional courtyard style, four sides built around a landscaped garden in the center.

“It was my parents’,” Lan Wangji murmured, careful not to wake A-Yuan as they left their shoes by the door. “Or rather… my mother’s.”

Wei Wuxian followed him silently down the hall to a bedroom. They settled A-Yuan in the bed, removing his coat. Wei Wuxian pulled a few stuffed animals from the backpack and tucked them in around him. Leaving the door ajar, Lan Wangji led him back out into the lovely, light-filled room that opened onto the courtyard. Low trees shaded a well-tended garden, and Wei Wuxian pressed his face to the glass.

“That was my mother’s as well,” Lan Wangji noted.

“It’s beautiful. She was talented.”

“She loved flowers.”

“I can tell,” Wei Wuxian said, and did the math in his head. If this was his mother’s, and Lan Wangji had been orphaned at such a young age, then what he was seeing was someone else’s handiwork entirely, done in her honor. He turned back to Lan Wangji, who was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, coaxing the shyer of the two rabbits out of the basket. “You live here alone?” Wei Wuxian asked, folding his legs to sit beside him.

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Your brother…”

“Travels a lot,” Lan Wangji answered. “And lives at the conservatory when he is home. My uncle lives near the conservatory as well, on family property.”

Wei Wuxian giggled as the more gregarious rabbit launched himself into his lap. He scooped him up, tousling his ears, tickling the furry velvet of his belly. The bunny’s little legs paddled in the air.

Lan Wangji observed this and said nothing, merely holding and stroking his own shy rabbit more gently.

“Did you have rabbits as a kid?” Wei Wuxian asked him. He could picture it, actually. This pretty courtyard filled with the little fluff balls, hopping around. Baby Lan Wangji feeding them carrots while his mother tended her flowers. It was painfully cute.

But Lan Wangji shook his head. “I was not allowed.”

“Not allowed?”

“My uncle is very strict. He did not see the benefit of keeping animals as pets.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said, suddenly wanting to time travel and shut himself up for the mean things he’d said about bringing the bunnies home. “I get it, then. I mean… I still can’t believe you adopted these things, just like that. But it wasn’t just for A-Yuan, was it?”

Wei Wuxian watched his face closely. Lan Wangji regarded the young rabbit hunched in his lap, offering him a leaf of cabbage.

“I have wanted pets for a very long time,” Lan Wangji finally admitted. “Perhaps it was time.”

Wei Wuxian bumped him with his shoulder companionably. The rabbit he held finally kicked free, hopping down to explore the rug.

“You know A-Yuan will have to visit them, right?”

“He is welcome.”

“And I’m basically their adopted father,” Wei Wuxian said. “I know where you live. I’ll show up on your doorstep all the time now.”

“I will give you a key,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, then closed it, speechless. He turned to look back out at the garden, blinking away the unexpected moisture in his eyes.

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Shut up. I’m just happy. You dork, I’m just happy. It’s been a good day.”

“Mn, it has,” Lan Wangji agreed.

Fortified with the little nibble of cabbage, Lan Wangji’s own rabbit hopped down, sniffing his way tentatively across the rug toward his companion.

Wei Wuxian, who had leaned their shoulders together, hadn’t pulled away. He nudged Lan Wangji again. “You’re a good father,” he said, indicating the rabbits. “Already. I can tell. They’re well-adjusted and filial.”

He was trying to trick another smile out of Lan Wangji. He saw the first hints of it, and kept rambling.

“You’re really good with kids too. I mean it. I think A-Yuan might move in, he’s not even gonna want to go home with me now.”

There it was, a slight smile.

“I’d have your babies,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning in and blurting the words straight in Lan Wangji’s ear.

It shocked a laugh out of him, how swiftly Lan Wangji moved. Wei Wuxian found himself on his back, pinned on the rug, Lan Wangji on all fours above him. Delighted, Wei Wuxian shoved at his chest.

“Not right now,” he said, scandalized, giggling and squirming away as Lan Wangji nuzzled his neck. It fucking tickled. “There are children!” he gasped. “Innocent children under this roof! And innocent bunnies!”

Lan Wangji paused, lifting up and looking over at the rabbits.

One had hopped atop the other, not quite humping, but… enthusiastically exploring the possibility.

Wei Wuxian spluttered. “Shameless! Lan-er-gege, didn’t you get two male bunnies just for this reason?!”

“What does that have to do with it?” Lan Wangji asked him seriously.

Wei Wuxian threw his head back and laughed. He reached up, winding his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, drawing him back down to his mouth. He grinned and kissed him, crushing their lips together, slow and sweet. For the second time that day, they were just beginning to explore moving their mouths together when tiny footsteps padded slowly down the hallway. A-Yuan entered the room, dragging Little Apple and his stuffed frog, grumpily rubbing his eyes.

Wei Wuxian groaned, then laughed and sighed. He stole one last kiss, Lan Wangji’s teeth scraping his lower lip as they parted. They both sat upright, reluctantly disentangling their bodies.

“Hey little bean, get a good nap?”

“I’m thirsty,” A-Yuan said. He hauled himself to the sofa, tucking himself into the cushions, hugging his animals to his chest.

Lan Wangji got to his feet, disappearing through a doorway that appeared to lead to a kitchen.

“Lan Zhan will get you some juice,” Wei Wuxian predicted.

After a minute, A-Yuan seemed to realize they were in unfamiliar surroundings. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Showing the new bunnies their home.”

“This is where rich-gege lives?” A-Yuan glanced around him, but was mostly only interested in watching the bunnies, who had thankfully grown bored with each other and were back to exploring the room.

“Mm-hmm. Do you like it?”

“Mm-hmm. I want to live here,” A-Yuan said.

Wei Wuxian chuckled softly, ruffling his hair. “All right, I’ll call Popo, tell her you won’t be coming home.”

A-Yuan sniffled, rubbing his nose. “Maybe I can still live with Popo too, though.”

“And me?”

“And Xian-gege.”

Wei Wuxian kissed his forehead. “That’s good,” he said. “Because wherever you go, I go.”

A-Yuan scooted closer. He nearly dropped Little Apple, but caught him and circled Wei Wuxian’s neck tightly with his arms, including him in the hug along with his donkey and his frog.

“Do you like it here?” A-Yuan asked him, watching the bunnies.

Wei Wuxian smiled to himself. Since he liked anywhere Lan Wangji was, he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Chapter Text

Dusk was falling when Wei Wuxian’s phone buzzed. He dug it out of his coat, checking the number on the screen.

“Mianmian!” he said happily, swiping to answer the call.

“Where the hell are you?” came her voice over the line.

“Is that any way to greet your favorite person?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

He held up a hand, signaling for them to stop, but Lan Wangji had already stiffened, halting beside him on the busy sidewalk. A-Yuan tugged at their hands, but then subsided, resting his weight against Wei Wuxian’s leg.

“I know, I know,” Wei Wuxian said, “we’re running late. But we…”

“But you had quite the day,” Mianmian finished for him.

“But A-Yuan had a nap,” Wei Wuxian said pointedly, “and we had to wait for him to wake up, and get a snack.”

“So you’re not at A-Qing’s yet?”

“We just left Lan Zhan’s.”

There was a ringing silence. “…What were you doing at… wait, no, A-Qing’s right, we’ll do that when you get here.”

Wei Wuxian made a face.

“But I’m glad I caught you,” Mianmian said. “Can you bring A-Yuan to my place instead?”

“To your place?”

If it had previously been a ringing silence, this was a blushing one. “A-Qing is here. And it will be easier, if you just bring A-Yuan…”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “So that’s how it is.” He rolled his eyes at Lan Wangji. “Okay, okay, I’ll come to your place. But you owe me big time for this. I’m talking undying love, eternal devotion…”

There was a voice in the background, muffled. “A-Qing says do it or she’ll bust your balls in front of your new boyfriend.”

“It’s not—!”

“Thank you,” Mianmian said sweetly. “See you soon.” She hung up.

“Okay, change of plans,” Wei Wuxian announced, pocketing the phone. “We’re going to Mianmian’s instead.” He took A-Yuan’s hand again, looking around the street to get his bearings. It would just mean heading slightly north-east instead of east, but about the same distance, only a few streets over.

A-Yuan bounced on the balls of his feet, probably excited for someone new to tell about his rabbits. They started off again, but then Wei Wuxian stopped and turned back.

“Lan Zhan,” he called, “come on.”

A-Yuan reached back, nearly pulling Wei Wuxian over, grabbing Lan Wangji’s hand again without letting Wei Wuxian’s go. “Rich-gege, come on,” he echoed.

“I should… go home,” Lan Wangji said.

“What?” Wei Wuxian said. “After everything you just said about walking us home, making sure I ate dinner? Bullshit, come on!” he said merrily. “Mianmian doesn’t bite.”

Lan Wangji flinched. Wei Wuxian was too preoccupied to give it much thought, picking A-Yuan up so he could take Lan Wangji’s hand himself and tow him along.

“It’s not far out of our way,” Wei Wuxian assured him. Besides, despite what Mianmian had said, if Lan Wangji was there, the girls would have to be on their best behavior. He squeezed Lan Wangji’s hand and grinned at him. “Don’t worry. You’ll survive.”

Lan Wangji balked again when they reached the entrance to Mianmian’s building. He bid A-Yuan goodbye, and told Wei Wuxian, formally but kindly, that he had enjoyed their day, and would see them both soon.

Wei Wuxian looked at him strangely. “I’m not staying,” he said. Probably Lan Wangji had come down with a headache, finally reaching his limit for the amount of people he could tolerate in one day. But Wei Wuxian wasn’t people. “Just wait here,” he told him. “You’re being weird. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back down.”

Lan Wangji faltered, but Wei Wuxian bounded up the stairs two at a time before he could protest further, making A-Yuan giggle in his arms. They were both flushed and a little sweaty when they reached Mianmian’s floor.

“Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing greeted him, swinging the door open wide.

Wei Wuxian winced. A-Yuan launched at her for a hug, greeting Qing-jiejie with a kiss and then Qingyang-jiejie with a kiss—that would be Mianmian, who took him into her arms.

“You look well,” Wen Qing said.

Wei Wuxian winced again, looking back and forth between them. “Wen Ning told you.”

“Told me what? A-Ning didn’t say anything. Just that you weren’t at Popo’s on time, so I was worried something had come up that meant it was inconvenient for you to keep A-Yuan. But then A-Ning said, oh no, don’t worry, everything’s fine, and besides, Lan Wangji would help. Because Lan Wangji was there too. With you. In your apartment. Before breakfast.”

Wei Wuxian rested his forehead against the doorframe and banged it gently several times. “That’s not…”

“And then you start texting us pictures all day,” Wen Qing continued, folding her arms. “And you’re not at home, you’re at a farm. And then you’re not at home, you’re at Lan Wangji’s.”

“Rich-gege gave me bunnies!” A-Yuan exclaimed.

“Not helping,” Wei Wuxian snapped, pointing a finger in his direction.

A-Yuan giggled.

“So where is your boyfriend now?” Wen Qing asked.

“Not my boyfriend!”

“Outside,” A-Yuan said.

“I’ll go get him,” Mianmian offered, depositing A-Yuan in the direction of a box of toys, then slipping out of the room.

“Not your boyfriend?” Wen Qing said flatly, in her who do I kill, and I bet it’s you voice.

“We haven’t talked,” Wei Wuxian hissed. “You know, because we’ve had A-Yuan all day, because I’m a responsible adult?”

“So you didn’t talk before… whatever happened last night.”

“Uhhhh…” Wei Wuxian said. “No.”

Wen Qing gave him a look.

“No! I don’t… it just happened. He got drunk, and I—”

“He was drunk?” Wen Qing said.

“Yes! No! Just a little!”

“And you, what? Shamelessly took advantage of his inebriated state to get off with him?”

“No! Just… it wasn’t like that,” Wei Wuxian said miserably. “And we did talk for a minute, while A-Yuan took a nap. Lan Zhan adopted rabbits! He said he’d give me a key to his place and I said I’d have his babies. We’re fine!”

Wen Qing massaged the bridge of her nose. “At any point during this conversation, did you say the words ‘I like you,’ or ‘I want to be with you,’ or, I don’t know, ‘I’ve been pining for you like an idiot for fucking years’?”

Wei Wuxian winced again.

Wen Qing threw up her hands. “You’re hopeless. I give up. I can’t believe…”

The elevator dinged. Wen Qing’s countenance altered, her relatively friendly mask descending. Wei Wuxian turned to see Mianmian appear, her arm hooked through Lan Wangji’s, who looked like a man being led to his execution.

Wei Wuxian beamed at him, happy to see him, even though it had only been approximately 400 seconds since he had. “Hey, be nice to Lan Zhan,” he chided, “he doesn’t like to be touched.”

Lan Wangji nodded a stilted, pained greeting to Wen Qing.

“Oh my!” Mianmian said, since she was evil. She peered at Wei Wuxian’s neck, pulling his scarf loose. “Were you mugged?!”

Wei Wuxian’s face went hot. “Ha ha ha ha,” he said. “Funny story. No.”

“What’s mugged?” A-Yuan asked, sitting on the rug, kissing two paper butterflies together.

Lan Wangji looked like he wished the floor would swallow him up. It seemed like genuine misery, not just shyness or embarrassment. Wei Wuxian frowned at him, concerned. His own stomach did a queasy little lurch.

“Hey,” Wen Qing said, snapping her fingers in his face, abruptly changing the subject. “Enough about that, what about us? Are you not even going to mention what Mianmian told you last night?”

Lan Wangji turned green.

“Uhhh,” Wei Wuxian scrambled. Fuck! That was supposed to be the big news, and here he was diverting all the focus. “That’s kind of what happened last night! With the—uh. Why Lan Zhan is here. We were celebrating!”

A barely suppressed strangled sound came from Lan Wangji’s direction. Well, if that was embarrassment, he would just have to deal for a minute. Wei Wuxian owed a few hugs, a big, warm one for Mianmian, an aggressive one for Wen Qing, then a group hug for all three of them.

“I’m so happy,” Wei Wuxian said, genuinely emotional.

A-Yuan ran over. “Happy,” he said, trying to hug all of their legs at once.

“Me too,” Mianmian said, beaming at him as they parted. Then she turned a worse smile on Wen Qing, completely sappy and adoring, and a little bit shy and new.

Wen Qing huffed a little, then touched Mianmian’s chin and kissed her right there, in front of everyone.

Wei Wuxian, who had picked up A-Yuan again, covered his eyes with his hand. “Aiya, there are children present! And Lan Zhan!”

“But Xian-gege kissed…”

Wei Wuxian moved the hand from A-Yuan’s eyes down to his mouth.

“Ha ha ha ha,” he said.

A-Yuan forced his hand off. “But Xian-gege can kiss and Qing-jiejie can kiss and Yang-jiejie can kiss and A-Yuan can kiss and rich…”

“You’re right!” Wei Wuxian said, blowing a loud raspberry kiss against A-Yuan’s cheek. “A-Yuan can kiss so go kiss your jiejies and tell them congratulations.”

He let A-Yuan go, turning to cast a look at Lan Wangji that was either apologetic or wry, but Lan Wangji was gone. Wei Wuxian did a double-take. Lan Wangji had been right there in the doorway before the group hug, and now he was not.

“Where did he go?!”

Mianmian frowned at him. “He was right there.”

“I know!” Wei Wuxian dashed in to kiss Mianmian’s cheek, then Wen Qing’s. “So happy,” he said. “Best news ever. Best day ever. We’re going to celebrate soon! I need to go find him.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Wen Qing’s sharp voice stopped him in the doorway. “Tell him.”

Wei Wuxian winced again. “I will, I will. Promise. Love you!” he called, running out the door as Mianmian and Wen Qing exchanged a significant, weary look, and Wen Qing rolled her eyes.

Lan Wangji was not in the hallway. Lan Wangji was not on the elevator. Wei Wuxian jogged down three flights of stairs—Lan Wangji was not in the stairwell—and burst through the building’s front door.

Night had fallen, the early evening sky a purple, silvery velvet, lights winking on in the buildings overhead. Wei Wuxian looked up and down the street, no one in sight that was tall and dark in a tailored coat with cookie crumbs smushed on its sleeve. He scanned all the shadows, cupping his hands to his mouth and yelling, “Lan Zhan!!”

He drew in a breath to yell again, but before he could, a low voice said, “I am here.”

Wei Wuxian turned. He exhaled, a gust of relief from his lungs. Behind him, Lan Wangji stood against the front wall of the building.

“Where did you go?” Wei Wuxian said, trotting over.

Lan Wangji held himself like he needed the building for support, his face pale, verging on pasty white, like Wen Ning after a particularly choppy ferry ride.

“Are you sick? Was it something you ate?” Wei Wuxian said in a rush of concern.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, visibly steeling himself. “Are you in love with Luo Qingyang?”

The question was so blunt, so unexpected, so utterly preposterous in every way, that Wei Wuxian stood there in front of him, mouth gaping like a fish.

“Mianmian,” Lan Wangji clarified through gritted teeth, as if that was the source of confusion. “Do you love—”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter, snorting through his nose. “Mianmian? Love Mianmian? Like in a gushy way, where I want to marry her and have her babies?” He cracked himself up again at the utter delightful stupidity of the idea. “No! What in the world—?!”

Lan Wangji’s face did something that wasn’t quite perceptible in the shadows. Wei Wuxian stepped closer to see it, and realized that Lan Wangji was trembling. He held up his hand.

“Okay, hold up, hold up,” he said. “What the hell’s going on? Start from the beginning.”

“Last night…” Lan Wangji faltered.

“Last night, when you fucked my brains out and made me come three times,” Wei Wuxian clarified.

Lan Wangji blanched. Or blushed. His cheeks blanched, his ears blushed. “…Before that.”

It was like pulling teeth, but Wei Wuxian started coaxing full sentences out of Lan Wangji. How he had arrived last night, not long after Mianmian had arrived at the wine shop herself. She and Wei Wuxian had been talking, huddled together over the bar. Wei Wuxian could begin to picture it, what it would have looked like from afar: a hushed conversation, interspersed with their typical banter, accompanied by a great deal of blushing on Mianmian’s part. Wei Wuxian had teased her mercilessly, overjoyed at the news.

“You said…” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian suddenly recalled what he had announced at full volume to the room. “And I said… ‘Drinks on me! Mianmian has made me the happiest man in the world!’”

He scrubbed his hands on his face, then tugged his hair.

“Okay, look. Mianmian? Is a lesbian. Yep, exactly,” Wei Wuxian said, at the poorly suppressed shock on Lan Wangji’s face. “We were celebrating. Because Mianmian, certified lesbian, has started going out with Wen Qing. And I set them up!”

Wei Wuxian gave that a moment to sink in. Lan Wangji blinked several times, trying to process that information.

“That’s why she came by last night, to tell me the good news. They’re a couple now. After, like… three whole days, but whatever. They like-like each other. She had to gush all about it to someone. So yeah, of course I’m gonna make a lot of noise about it!” Wei Wuxian said, pacing a little. He threw up his hands. “I am the happiest man in the world! I was right, and now they know it.”

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian held up three fingers to the sky, the earth, then his heart. Solemnly, he said, “I, Wei Ying, swear on my life that I am not eloping with Mianmian. Or dating Mianmian. Or engaged to Mianmian. Nor will I be, ever, at any point in the future, in this life or the next.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart softened at the depth of distress on Lan Wangji’s face, indicating the turmoil he had gone through.

“Hey,” he said softly, realizing. “That’s why you freaked out when I said we were coming here, wasn’t it? Why you wouldn’t go upstairs?”

Wei Wuxian replayed that conversation on the phone, then what Lan Wangji would have witnessed just now in Mianmian’s apartment. It was comical, what he might have inferred by hearing only one side of it, without understanding the context.

Then further realization dawned.

“Lan Zhan, do you really think I wouldn’t have told you if Mianmian and I were together? Do you think I would have slept with you, then hung around you all day and not said a word?!”

Lan Wangji at least had the decency to look abashed.

“What kind of person do you think I am?!”

“I… I was not thinking clearly,” Lan Wangji said, his voice stifled.

“Clearly,” Wei Wuxian said, and then narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Hold on, you thought I was with Mianmian,” he accused.

Lan Wangji swallowed.

“That means… Lan Zhan, you thought I was dating Mianmian, or engaged to Mianmian, or whatever was going on in that head of yours, and you still… kissed me? Tied me up and fucked me? Spent all day with me and kept kissing me and adopted bunnies with me?!”

The color was high on Lan Wangji’s cheeks, for once in his life matching the bright shade of his ears. He didn’t even bother to correct Wei Wuxian’s revision of history, that the rabbit adoption was mutual. “It was wrong,” he said hoarsely. “I got carried away. I was not thinking.”

Wei Wuxian walked away, digging both fists in his hair, pulling so tight it hurt.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “That’s so hot.”

He launched himself at Lan Wangji, mouth first, so fast it almost knocked them off balance.

The kiss was rough, exuberant, completely graceless. Lan Wangji, overwhelmed, kissed him back, seeming to operate purely by reflex. Someone exiting the building cursed at them under their breath, wheeling a piece of luggage around them. Wei Wuxian couldn’t care less. He kissed Lan Wangji fiercely, then pulled back, mouths still close, his hands cupping Lan Wangji’s neck.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, feeling the pulse fluttering in Lan Wangji’s throat. “Does this mean… you like me?”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s hands tightened on his waist.

“Do you like me so much,” Wei Wuxian whispered, awed, “that you’d kiss me and tie me up and fuck me to death, even if you thought I was with someone else??”

Lan Wangji flinched at his actions described so bluntly like that, briefly shutting his eyes.

“Because I like you too,” Wei Wuxian whispered, overwhelmed.

Lan Wangji’s gaze snapped up, his eyes widening.

“I like you so much,” Wei Wuxian said, the hope brimming in his heart beginning to overflow. “I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t want anybody else but you. I’ve wanted you for so long I can’t even remember when it started! Wen Qing has been kicking my butt because I wouldn’t just tell you, but you’re so… you’re so… I just thought you’d freak out on me.” Wei Wuxian laughed a bit foolishly, given recent events. He moved his hands up to cup Lan Wangji’s face. “I slept with you because you’re the only one I want to sleep with. Lan Zhan, I want to so much. I want to do everything with you. I want to see you every day and I want to talk to you every day and I want to sleep with you every day, for the—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Lan Wangji crushed their mouths back together, so harsh it was bruising. Wei Wuxian gasped into his mouth, then kissed him back, all teeth and tongue. Their mouths clashed for what felt like a minor eternity, and then Lan Wangji bit along his jaw, buried his face in his neck, and pulled him into an equally crushing embrace.

Wei Wuxian laughed euphorically, his eyes wet, tightening his own arms around Lan Wangji’s neck. They stood like that for what felt like another age and a half, hugging so tightly it was going to bruise Wei Wuxian’s ribs.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he whispered eventually.

Lan Wangji didn’t move. Wei Wuxian stroked his hair, scratching his scalp, kissing the tip of his ear, the only part he could reach.

“Lan Zhan,” he tried again. “Are you going to keep me here forever?”

Lan Wangji nodded, his embrace tightening further.

Wei Wuxian chuckled breathlessly. He fucking loved Lan Wangji so much. Wen Qing was right, saying it out loud had been the best idea ever.

“Er-gege,” he said after another few moments, making sure his voice sounded fretful, verging towards wounded. “But… you haven’t even said if you like me back or not.” He sniffled forlornly. “Do you like Mianmian?”

Lan Wangji released him a fraction, pulling back to look at his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and shining. It slammed into Wei Wuxian’s chest like a brick.

“I do not,” Lan Wangji stated.

“You don’t?”

“I like you,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian tipped his head to one side, eying him skeptically. “Like-like me?”

Lan Wangji didn’t even balk at the juvenile turn of phrase. “Like-like you,” he echoed.

“Oh. And you—”

“I love you,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian blinked at him.

He repeated Wei Wuxian’s words back to him with all the gravity as if he were etching them in stone. “I want to see you every day, talk to you every day, and sleep with you every day.”

The warmth in Wei Wuxian’s chest spread, overtaking him, tingling down like liquor to his fingers and toes. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. He’d lived with this for years, the internal effect of Lan Wangji’s presence, his honest declarations, his dry jokes. Wei Wuxian had thought it was like firecrackers, once. But it burned more like a hearth fire, banked down deep inside him, seeping warmth into his bones.

He scrunched up his nose at Lan Wangji, grinning so hard his eyes watered.

“Actually,” Wei Wuxian said, since his role in this relationship was going to be wrecking Lan Wangji’s reputation and composure. “What I really want is to—” he leaned in to whisper a stream of filth in Lan Wangji’s ear “—with you every day.”

Lan Wangji, to Wei Wuxian’s chagrin, didn’t bat an eyelash, nor balk, nor blush any shade of red. He took Wei Wuxian by the wrist and began to cart him off down the sidewalk.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Wei Wuxian yelped. “Now?! What are you doing? Hold up, just wait.”

He dragged his feet. Lan Wangji turned back, contemplated him, then picked him up far too easily for someone of nearly equal height and tossed him over his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian spluttered with indignation.

“Lan Zhan!” he shouted.

“You have said it,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian kicked his feet in the air. “Not like this! People are gonna see!”

“Did you not say you wish for me to—”

“Ah ha ha ha ha,” Wei Wuxian said loudly, cutting him off, covering his face with his hands. He bobbed along for a moment, then cajoled, “Lan Zhan. Lan Wangji. Think about what this looks like. Isn’t this really too much?”

“Are you hungry?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian frowned open-mouthed at the abrupt non-sequitur. It took him a moment, but he asked, confused, “Hungry, like… a euphemism?”

It was surprisingly difficult to be sexy and coy while hanging upside down over someone’s shoulder. He was learning new things every day.

“Hungry, for food,” Lan Wangji clarified.

“What? What are you asking? You’re gonna stop for food now?”

Lan Wangji said sensibly, “You will need your strength.”

Wei Wuxian made a sound through his nose.

Lan Wangji paused in a way that made Wei Wuxian experience a brief moment of hope, but he had just assessed the traffic in both directions and was now crossing the street. A few passersby turned back to look at them. Wei Wuxian buried his burning face against Lan Wangji’s coat.

“You really can’t treat me like this,” he whined, muffled and pitiful.

Lan Wangji patted his thigh reassuringly and carried on.

Lan Wangji did not carry him all the way back to his house. No, that would be absurd. He deposited Wei Wuxian on the ground when they reached a busier thoroughfare, after he’d carried him long enough to make a point, long enough for Wei Wuxian to be red-faced, winded, and petulant when he got to his feet. He sulked a bit, rather half-heartedly, and followed Lan Wangji into a shop, where it took him longer than it should to realize that they were, in fact, taking a detour to… shop.

It was a pharmacy, actually. Lan Wangji browsed the shelves, placing items in a basket. Toothbrush, toothpaste—the brand and flavor Wei Wuxian kept beside his sink. A variety of toiletries, each a duplicate of what Wei Wuxian used at home. Lan Wangji added a few different arnica creams, reading the labels, selecting the ones with ingredients that bore the closest resemblance to Granny Wen’s homemade salve.

Wei Wuxian, slightly panicked, gripped Lan Wangji’s arm when they reached the next aisle, but Lan Wangji surveyed and selected several different bottles of lube, one water-based, one not, one with aloe, one that advertised it was “warming.”

“Ha ha ha ha, what are you doing?” Wei Wuxian hissed.

“Shopping,” Lan Wangji replied, coming to a stop before a discreet display of condoms. He contemplated the options on offer and frowned. “Would you like any of these?”

Wei Wuxian made another sound like a kettle letting off steam, barely even able to look at the display. “No,” he said, blushing. He whispered at the lowest volume possible. “I thought we established it wasn’t necessary.”

“I believe it can help prevent mess,” Lan Wangji said. “If you found it uncomfortable…”

Bright red, Wei Wuxian exclaimed, “Well, I don’t want it to be less messy!!” Looking around them, he lowered his voice again and leaned in. “Besides, gege, how are you gonna get me pregnant if you take all these precautions?”

Lan Wangji nearly dropped the box he was holding. Wei Wuxian felt a rush of satisfaction, finally turning the tables. It restored their equilibrium, which lasted until Lan Wangji rang up their purchases, unembarrassed, and paid for them with his phone. He added snacks, candy, colorful drinks full of sugar and electrolytes, all of which Wei Wuxian knew for a fact Lan Wangji would never consume.

“What’s all this? Are you spoiling me?” Wei Wuxian teased him.

To which Lan Wangji replied, collecting their purchases, “You should feel at home.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, but not even the tea kettle sound came out.

It went downhill from there.

Lan Wangji made good on his threat about food. He had a favorite noodle shop, Wei Wuxian learned, one where the proprietor recognized him on sight and greeted him by name. Lan Wangji exchanged pleasantries, briefly inquiring after the auntie’s children, introducing Wei Wuxian as his boyfriend. Wei Wuxian nodded at her, helpless, for once the one rendered speechless during an interaction with a stranger.

“What is the matter?” Lan Wangji asked him after three solid minutes of Wei Wuxian staring at him, once Lan Wangji had placed their order. (“The usual” for himself, and dan dan noodles for Wei Wuxian, extra chili oil.)

Wei Wuxian reached out, touching Lan Wangji’s forehead, then his own.

“What are you doing?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Checking for fever.”

“Do you feel unwell?”

“Do you?” Wei Wuxian countered.

A tiny smile played across Lan Wangji’s features. Oh, the bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“What is this, a date?” Wei Wuxian demanded, pulling him to a table as soon as one opened up. They crowded in between the other patrons, Wei Wuxian squeezing himself into the smaller opening to create more space for Lan Wangji.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said stubbornly.

Wei Wuxian laughed, slumping against the table in defeat.

It felt so odd at first that it might as well be roleplaying: Wei Wuxian On A Date. And then their food arrived, and it just felt… more normal than Wei Wuxian could have imagined. The busy dinner hour created an odd kind of intimacy, surrounded by so many strangers that the two of them existed in their own little bubble. Wei Wuxian felt brave enough to tease Lan Wangji again, flirting across the table, and they fell right back into their natural rhythm. He chattered away about whatever came into his head, Lan Wangji offering his succinct responses between bites of dry fried green beans, their long legs tangling beneath the table.

It was because they had done this before, Wei Wuxian suddenly realized. Multiple times every week, hundreds—no, thousands of times over the years. He’d serve Lan Wangji tea, or a meal, or whatever he ordered in Wei Wuxian’s wine shop, then he’d cram himself into the seat across the table, sometimes for hours at a time if business was slow, greedy for Lan Wangji’s company.

“Uhhhh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian blurted, dropping a heap of noodles that were halfway to his mouth. “Have we been dating all this time?”

Lan Wangji looked at him blankly.

Wei Wuxian gestured with his chopsticks back and forth between them, encompassing the table, the food, their surroundings. “We do this basically every time you come in the wine shop. Is this dating?”

“…Is it?” Lan Wangji looked perplexed.

“How would I know?”

Lan Wangji’s blankness intensified.

Wei Wuxian slurped up the large bite of noodles, bringing them once again to his mouth.

“…You have not dated?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Uh, no.” Wei Wuxian made a face at him, ridiculous. “When would I have done that? Have you?”

Lan Wangji looked at him, speechless.

“Oh, fuck me.” Wei Wuxian tipped back in his chair and laughed. “We’re both hopeless. No wonder Wen Qing wanted to kill me! Lan Zhan, I can’t ever show my face again. You’re going to have to elope with me. We’ll go live on a farm with our children and our rabbits. Go home and pack your bags.”

Another ghost of a smile flickered across Lan Wangji’s face.

“Although really, when you think about it,” Wei Wuxian mused, pouring himself a fresh cup of wine that he drank in one gulp. “That means you didn’t tie me up and jump me out of the blue. If we’ve been dating for that long, we’re practically married.”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji said thoughtfully.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t make the rules.” Wei Wuxian grinned, thoroughly enjoying all the bullshit he was spouting. “I’m sorry I won’t be a virgin on our wedding night.”

That won him a tinge of a blush on Lan Wangji’s ears. Wei Wuxian marveled at it: the man could throw him over his shoulder and shop for lube in public, but blush like a fool over one silly comment.

Wei Wuxian sat forward eagerly. “Hey, Lan Zhan,” he said, pushing aside his empty bowl. New vistas for mischief and flirtation had opened up all around him, and the wine had made him shameless again. “When did you realize you liked me?” He grinned cheekily. “Was it before or after you fucked me?”

Lan Wangji looked at him with incredulity.

“Before?” Wei Wuxian interpreted. “Was it when you got jealous of Mianmian, knowing you’d lost me forever?”

There was a flat look at that one.

“Before that? Wow! Oh, I know. It was when you met A-Yuan, right, and saw I was such an excellent father?”

There was no ghost this time; it was a proper smile, small and warm, one that went straight to Wei Wuxian’s head even faster than the wine. “Mn,” Lan Wangji conceded.

Wei Wuxian kicked him lightly under the table. “Liar. Lan Zhan, your morals are getting worse every day. Don’t you know I can tell when you’re just telling me what I want to hear?”

Lan Wangji sipped his tea and set the cup down without a clink. “Then what do you wish to hear?”

“Hmm,” Wei Wuxian pondered. “Love at first sight, that’s the best one. But you were so angry at me the night we met, I don’t—”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said.

“…Yes, what?”

“Yes, the night we met.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline.

“Although I tried to convince myself otherwise for quite some time,” Lan Wangji admitted quietly.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t lying: he could tell when Lan Wangji told the truth. This was the truth, pure and unvarnished. “But I was so…”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agreed. “Rude. Noisy. Infuriating. Funny. The kindest person I’d ever met.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth hung open, stunned. “And you were so…”

“Mn. I was distressed.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed the last of his wine, needing a moment to process. He replayed every memory he had of Lan Wangji in this incredible new light. “So all this time, your angry face has been your… your horny face??” He laughed in disbelief. “Lan Zhan, is this why I love you when you’re angry?!”

“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji acknowledged.

Wei Wuxian folded his arms on the table, burying his face in them. Lan Wangji patted his head gently.

“I’m gonna need a minute,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Let me know when you are ready.”

Lan Wangji stacked their dishes. He finished the pot of tea, then pulled out his phone and sent a brief text.

Wei Wuxian tried to peek, propping his chin on his forearms. “Who’s that?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“My brother,” Lan Wangji answered. “I have informed him of our relationship.”

He showed Wei Wuxian the screen. His brother’s reply contained an enthusiastic yet tasteful amount of exclamation points.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian said, amazed. “You’re just gonna be my boyfriend, and we’re gonna do this, and every day, we’re just gonna be together now?”

“If that is all right with you,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian laughed a little messily, scrubbing the wetness from his eyes.

“Sure,” he said. “Sure, you weirdo. I love you so much. Wanna go have sex about it?”

Lan Wangji stood up from the table so swiftly the dishes clinked. “Yes,” he said.

Chapter Text

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian said. “I can’t believe you let me take you home last night, when you had this instead!”

Lan Wangji, a bit formally, was conducting a brief tour of his house. Wei Wuxian had kind of planned on being slammed up against the front door and ravaged out of most if not all of his clothing, but whatever. This was fine too. Lan Wangji seemed to have a script for how this would go that he had rehearsed for years, and it was so adorable that Wei Wuxian indulged him, trailing alongside him, like a good houseguest—no, a good date, a newly minted boyfriend, on his best behavior.

He stood now, gaping at a master bathroom that, for all its simplicity and modest size, was Wei Wuxian’s bathroom of his dreams. He didn’t even know he was the type of person to have a bathroom of his dreams, but here it was. There was a tub. A built-in shower and a separate, standalone garden tub, with a frosted glass wall beyond it, overlooking a private courtyard, lush with evergreens even this time of year.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, shoving Lan Wangji’s chest. “How dare you keep this from me! I’m never speaking to you again!”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, unbothered by this threat, probably because Wei Wuxian was already talking again, running his hand along the bathtub.

“I’ve never even seen a tub this big. This is obscene.” He jumped inside it, fully clothed. He was wearing slippers that matched Lan Wangji’s, and he stretched his legs out, wiggling the slippers on his feet. They didn’t even touch the end. “Lan Zhan, my feet don’t even touch the end!”

Lan Wangji looked down at him, amused. “I didn’t know you felt this strongly about bathtubs.”

“Neither did I,” Wei Wuxian said, sliding down, pretending he was submerging himself beneath bubbles. “Both of us could fit in here!”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. “It was my mother’s.”

Wei Wuxian straightened up a bit. “Well, that kills the vibe a little,” he said. “Lan Zhan, why does your mother have a sex tub?”

Lan Wangji smothered a smile that was trying to sneak up on his face.

“It is not a sex tub.”

“It is now,” Wei Wuxian said, waggling his eyebrows. “But I’m serious, this whole place is incredible. The garden, the kitchen, the music room. The library. This bathroom.”

“My father built it for my mother,” Lan Wangji said, perching on the edge of the tub.

“Wow.” Wei Wuxian grinned. “So he was just like you then?”

That put an interesting expression on Lan Wangji’s face, and not the kind he expected.

“I mean… he was an amazing person,” Wei Wuxian explained. “They loved each other so much that he gave her all of this, everything she could have wanted.”

Lan Wangji looked a little pinched. “I do not think they had that kind of relationship.”

“You’re here,” Wei Wuxian teased, thinking Lan Wangji was just being a prude who didn’t want to imagine his parents’ sex life. Which: fair enough.

But Lan Wangji said, “He loved her immensely. She did not feel the same.”

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian looked around the room, elegant and clearly built with care. “…Oh.”

“They were young when they married. I do not know the exact circumstances, but it was against her wishes. I believe… I believe she taught herself to be grateful, but was unhappy until she died.”

Wei Wuxian, who had only inherited stories about the depth of his parents’ love, drew in a breath. He laid his hand on Lan Wangji’s knee.

“She was a kind and loving mother. She cared deeply for me and my brother, but could not feel the same about my father. I believe this house was his attempt at reconciling that fact.”

It was the most Lan Wangji had ever spoken of… anything like this, much less his family. Wei Wuxian squeezed his knee.

“So I really, uh, said the wrong thing there, huh? About you being like your father.”

“I…” Lan Wangji struggled with the words. “I have hoped we do not share as many similarities as I fear.”

“Like what?” Wei Wuxian frowned.

“Loving someone who does not feel the same,” Lan Wangji said, with devastating bluntness. “…Taking what is not ours to take.”

Wei Wuxian drew in another breath, one that felt a little sharper entering his lungs. Well, fuck. That was about him, wasn’t it? Much as it still stunned him to believe, he was the one loved immensely, the one Lan Wangji had failed to realize loved him in return. It started to make more sense now, the years of hesitancy and doubt. Why Lan Wangji had not revealed his feelings through anything except steady companionship. Why he hadn’t been able to trust Wei Wuxian’s own sloppy flirting as a true measure of affection.

Lan Wangji needed firm ground to stand on, and all Wei Wuxian had given him was death by a thousand tortures, flighty overtures that could be rejected as a whim. He’d thought he was helping Lan Wangji, coaxing him out of his frigid shell, never demanding too much from him, more than he was willing to give. But of course it wouldn’t look that way to Lan Wangji. He’d only seen the shadow of his parents, one beloved and one not, trying desperately to not follow in his father’s footsteps.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian said, and tugged Lan Wangji on top of him.

It was very nearly graceless, the way he fell into the tub. Of course, very nearly graceless for Lan Wangji was still twice as graceful as anybody else. Even drunk, he had been so composed and restrained, until he wasn’t. Wei Wuxian caught him with both arms, pulling him into a tight, awkward hug, smooshed together in the bathtub that really was big enough for them both.

“You’re lucky then,” Wei Wuxian murmured in Lan Wangji’s ear. “You’ve only taken what is yours to take.”

Lan Wangji made a soft, aborted sound.

If Wei Wuxian had been the poison, he would have to be the cure. “Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan, how can you doubt it? I’m yours. I meant what I said last night, you should’ve tied me up and kissed me the night we met, it would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble. You could do anything you want to me, and I’d love it. You could build me ten thousand houses, and I wouldn’t be grateful. I’d just be greedy and demanding, and you’d have to love me more, to love me half as much as I love you.”

Lan Wangji had gone very quiet, which for Lan Wangji, was saying something.

Wei Wuxian cuddled him tighter, kissing the top of his head. “You’re mine now. So I’m yours. That’s only fair. That’s how it works.” He thought about it for a moment, then carefully ventured: “Lan Zhan, uh, you did sober up last night, right? You remember it?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji affirmed.

“All of it?”

There was a pause long enough to make sweat break out along Wei Wuxian’s skin.

“No,” Lan Wangji said truthfully.

“Which parts are a blur?”

“Before the blindfold.”

Wei Wuxian allowed the panicked part of himself to sag in relief. “See?” he said. “Look what I did. If anybody should be sorry, it’s me. Technically I was the sober one. I knew you were drunk and I shamelessly took advantage and I did all that to provoke you. So am I a terrible person?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said vehemently, as if the very thought offended him.

“Does that make me like your father? Are you with me out of duty, indebted to me against your wishes?”

Lan Wangji went silent, absorbing the words.

“Then you’re not like him either,” Wei Wuxian said. “The way I see it, if he made your mother so unhappy, well, that’s between them. Whatever they felt for each other, or didn’t—that’s between them too. It’s got nothing to do with you or me.”

Lan Wangji was still for a long time. Wei Wuxian stroked his hair, kissing his temples, letting him feel his feelings. He held him until finally Lan Wangji pulled back to look at him. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed again, but not unhappy.

“Thank you,” he said.

Wei Wuxian cupped his face and kissed him, but shuddered theatrically. “It gives me goosebumps when people thank me like that. You’re very welcome, but don’t thank me.”

“Thank you,” Lan Wangji repeated with disturbing sincerity, like the menace he was. “For not being my mother.”

“Ugh!” Wei Wuxian ejected himself bodily from the bathtub, laughing even as he bolted from Lan Wangji’s choice of words. “Gross, no! Don’t say it like that!”

Lan Wangji caught his hand, not letting him flee. “Thank you,” he repeated gravely, “for not being my mother or my father.”

“Stop joking! You’re horrible. Why are you saying it like that? You’re a horrible person.” Wei Wuxian was shaking with laughter. He let himself be reeled in, then resisted. “Don’t kiss me with that mouth. Say you’re sorry.”

“Not sorry.”

“Well, you should be.”

Lan Wangji climbed out of the bathtub and picked him up at the same time Wei Wuxian threw his arms around his shoulders.

“You should be sorry, and ashamed of yourself. Who taught you to tease? Er-gege, whoever said you have no sense of humor has never even met you. You’re the worst. You make me look like I’m not even playing around.”

They turned sideways so Lan Wangji could fit him through the doorway without setting him down.

“Is this a do-over?” Wei Wuxian noted, at the sight of Lan Wangji’s austere and tidy bedroom. “Are you always like this? Gonna throw me down on the bed and rip my clothes off and take my virginity?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji answered, throwing him down on the bed.

“Good.” Wei Wuxian shivered, thrilled, catching Lan Wangji’s weight. They rolled sideways and pressed together. “It’s about damn time,” Wei Wuxian breathed, and captured Lan Wangji’s mouth.

“Ow ow ow!” Wei Wuxian said, his leg suspended mid-air.

Lan Wangji applied gentle pressure, gripping his leg with both hands, easing it up and to the side until Wei Wuxian’s hip joint cracked with an audible pop, and Wei Wuxian melted in relief.

They’d just been making out, really. Making out and rolling around on the bed, until Wei Wuxian put up a performance about being sore all over that was a bit too convincing. He’d just been trying to rile Lan Wangji up, but Lan Wangji called his bluff—and thus Wei Wuxian had ended up sprawled on the bed, Lan Wangji kneeling above him, working him through a brief series of hip stretches that felt… blissfully good, actually. Wei Wuxian was a loose, relaxed starfish, wiggling his feet back and forth.

“You should do this for a living,” Wei Wuxian commented dreamily, as Lan Wangji massaged his tight hamstring. “Shampoo people’s hair and masseuse the shit out of them. I’d pay you my life savings.”

“People?” Lan Wangji asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Not people. Just me,” he admitted.

Lan Wangji looked mollified, verging on smug. He released Wei Wuxian’s thigh. “Better?” he inquired.

“Mm-hmm. Better. You’re going to have to do this every day.”

“All right,” Lan Wangji agreed.

With his newly limber body, Wei Wuxian sprang up, gracelessly tackling Lan Wangji back on the bed. “How are you always like this, huh? How come you’re not taken?” he demanded, on his hands and knees above him.

“I am taken,” Lan Wangji replied.

Wei Wuxian, despite himself, felt a grin on his face, heat pinking his cheeks. “Lan Zhan, we’ve talked about this. You can’t just say things like that.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, unrepentant.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I am not.”

Wei Wuxian leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He kissed his brow, then his temple.

“Say it. ‘I’m sorry,’” Wei Wuxian prompted.

“No,” Lan Wangji said, eyes sinking closed.

Wei Wuxian kissed his soft lashes. He kissed the corner of his eye, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth where all his smiles liked to hide.

“Lan Zhan, last chance. Say it,” he murmured, lips skimming his lips, brushing together but not kissing.

Lan Wangji resolutely shook his head no.

Wei Wuxian sighed. He kissed Lan Wangji’s chin, his jaw, his throat. He traveled down the planes of his chest, kissing where Lan Wangji’s heart beat a fast but steady rhythm beneath his clothes. He kissed the wings of his collarbones, the dip of his sternum. Then, too many layers between them, he unzipped the hoodie—Wei Wuxian’s own hoodie—dragging the zipper down with his teeth.

All day Lan Wangji had been wearing these clothes, driving him crazy. Wei Wuxian had even forgotten about it for a while—dressed in his overcoat and scarf, Lan Wangji had looked like nothing was amiss. But beneath those outer layers, he still wore Wei Wuxian’s clothes, the stretchy joggers, the too-snug hoodie. Black was not his color, it washed him out, but he still looked pale and perfect, like a vampire. Wei Wuxian parted the fabric, spreading his hands possessively across Lan Wangji’s abs.

“Mmm, much better,” Wei Wuxian murmured, placing a string of kisses across his bare skin. Lan Wangji shuddered beneath him, heat, not ice, to the touch. Wei Wuxian licked him, kissed him, roamed him all over, even bit him when he reached his pectoral. He kissed the tight brown nipple then sucked it roughly in his mouth.

“Wah,” Wei Wuxian said, pulling back when Lan Wangji didn’t buck and moan. He teased the nipple with his finger. “Not sensitive?”

“Not… there. Not like you are,” Lan Wangji managed to say.

“’Kay,” Wei Wuxian said, filing away this bit of information. Wickedly, he grinned. “Where are you sensitive, gege?”

Lan Wangji, so adorable, pressed his lips shut, a telltale blush beginning to burn the tips of his ears.

“Here?” Wei Wuxian guessed. He dropped little teasing, tickling kisses across Lan Wangji’s ribs.

No response. Lan Wangji held himself rigidly, breathing shallowly, his belly tight and flat as a board.

“What about here?” Wei Wuxian mused.

He kissed the jut of Lan Wangji’s hipbone through the joggers.

“No?” Wei Wuxian said. He looked up through his lashes, innocently tracing the waistband with his finger. He trailed that finger down.

“…Here?” he asked.

He cupped his palm between Lan Wangji’s legs, at the same time his mouth greeted the part where all of Lan Wangji’s reactions had occurred. He had to stifle his grin, dizzy with triumph at the way Lan Wangji’s breath stuttered, the involuntary little jolt of his hips.

“Big,” Wei Wuxian murmured, mouthing the shape of him through the layers of clothing, voice muffled in the fabric. There was quite a lot to explore between his hand and his mouth. After a moment, he pulled back. “Er-gege, how am I even going to fit all this inside me?”

The words had the desired effect. Lan Wangji twitched in his hand, even he fixed a dark glare in Wei Wuxian’s direction. Wei Wuxian feigned wide-eyed shock, brimming with mischief.

“What am I supposed to do with it, huh? I’ve never seen one this size!” He undid the tie on the black joggers. “Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan, I don’t think…”

The words died on his lips. Wei Wuxian, no longer playing, stared at the sight before him.

After a moment, he managed to speak. “Lan Zhan… have you been wearing these all day?”

Lan Wangji’s ears looked painfully red, as red as the bright red cotton briefs he wore. “Mine were… ruined,” he said. “After last night.”

Right. That made sense. Right, that made logical sense when Wei Wuxian thought about it. It’s just that he hadn’t thought about it, and now he was staring at Lan Wangji ensconced in his borrowed briefs, one size too small. That morning, Lan Wangji had emerged fully dressed in his clothes, and that had been enough to fry his brain without even thinking about what was underneath. “You’re not the type to freeball it, huh?” he said, not yet back in control of his mouth. Lan Wangji’s chest was flushing pink, contributing to the color palette. “Will you wear these every day?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said reasonably.

“Fair. That’s fair. But what if I want you to?” Wei Wuxian said. “Lan er-gege, I really want you to wear these every day.” He mapped Lan Wangji’s cock with his fingers, stroking the outline through the fabric that barely contained him. Visions ran rampant through Wei Wuxian’s head. “I want you in lingerie too. Nothing but lace. Nothing at all. I want to feel you up and find out you’re not wearing anything under your clothes.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth was running free with zero input from his brain. He shut himself up, nuzzling his face back down against the warm, damp cotton. Lan Wangji was leaking profusely, a dark wet patch seeping through the fabric. Wei Wuxian licked it, then kissed it. He sucked earnestly at the substantial tip of him through the cloth, and Lan Wangji gasped out loud.

A gasp from Lan Wangji was basically a wanton moan from anyone else. Wei Wuxian continued his assault, breathing him in, chuckling a little as Lan Wangji’s hips jerked up of their own accord.

“Shameless,” Wei Wuxian said, a few of his faculties returning. With joy he sat up and shucked the joggers off, tossing them across the room. Carefully, he folded down the waistband of the briefs, revealing the angry, wet tip of Lan Wangji’s cock. He tutted at the sight of it, then took mercy on Lan Wangji and stripped the red briefs off him too, pulling them down his long, lean legs.

“Ahhhhh.” Wei Wuxian sighed in happiness at the sight before him.

Another time, he’d draw this out. Do this slower, really tease him, cover his belly and thighs with kisses, torment Lan Wangji with foreplay. But that would have to wait. Wei Wuxian drank in the sight of him, stroked him up and down once, then licked his lips and went down.

“No,” Lan Wangji said, startled and flustered enough to object at how sudden it was, catching hold of his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian sucked at him lightly, the part of Lan Wangji already in his mouth, then pulled off and told him, “Yes.”

“You—”

“Shhh.” Wei Wuxian pushed his hand away, moving it around to cup the back of his head. “I’ve got this.” He winked, tonguing at the head of Lan Wangji’s cock, then curled his lips and slid back down.

There it was. The buck and moan—well, the sharp, labored gasp—that he had been seeking. Lan Wangji panted gracefully beneath him as Wei Wuxian explored a few different angles with enthusiasm, determined to accommodate Lan Wangji’s size in his mouth. What he lacked in skill, he made up for with unbridled audacity, relaxing his throat in order to take Lan Wangji as deep as he could. He inhaled through his nose and eagerly swallowed around him—and pulled off gasping and choking.

“Stop,” Lan Wangji begged him. “If you don’t like—”

“I like,” Wei Wuxian assured him. He eyed the challenge in front of him, then angled Lan Wangji more shallowly towards the roof of his mouth, closing his eyes with a moan.

It’s not like Wei Wuxian was unpracticed at this. He’d watched porn; he’d gotten himself off with his own fingers and various… objects in his mouth. He was an adventurous sort of person, and an infinitely adaptable one. He improvised quickly, reorganizing his goals to what was feasible in the moment. Lan Wangji was just… larger in his mouth than he’d anticipated, that was all. Nothing he couldn’t handle. With determination and pleasure, he used his hand where his tongue and mouth couldn’t reach, lavishing Lan Wangji with attention. Steadily he got the hang of it, expanding his repertoire of skills. He bobbed his head up and down, peeking up at Lan Wangji through his lashes to find Lan Wangji watching him back, mouth open around what looked like a silent moan. He was so beautiful like this, not even debauched, just… Lan Wangji, breathtakingly honest. Wei Wuxian moaned for them both, happily redoubling his efforts.

“Wei… Ying…” Lan Wangji trembled with strain.

“Stop holding back,” Wei Wuxian told him, and tongued at the spot that seemed to be exquisitely sensitive. As Lan Wangji gasped in response, he worked his slick hand up and down, then lowered his mouth and sucked hard, moving faster in time with Lan Wangji’s breaths.

His jaw, unused to accommodating something this size, was just beginning to ache when Lan Wangji came. There was an abrupt, urgent shudder, and then salty, thick liquid hit the back of his mouth, coating his tongue. Wei Wuxian choked again, inadvertently swallowing part of it as Lan Wangji continued to spill in his mouth. It took more coordination than he had to manage all of it at once—he pulled off, stroking Lan Wangji with his hand, coughing for air. Before Lan Wangji could urge him to do something stupid like spit it all out, he pressed a hand to his mouth and swallowed the rest of it, clearing his throat.

Triumphantly, he opened his mouth, showing Lan Wangji his pink tongue. “All gone,” he announced.

Lan Wangji, speechless, collapsed back down on the mattress. Wei Wuxian laughed a belly laugh at the expression on his face. Ignoring his own rampant erection, he crawled up to snuggle Lan Wangji. He kissed him with the mouth that had just swallowed copious amounts of Lan Wangji’s come.

“Filthy,” Lan Wangji finally murmured, kissing him back.

“Not filthy,” Wei Wuxian countered. He dropped a kiss on his nose. “Did you take notes? Wasn’t I good at that? When it’s your turn, you’re gonna have to be just as good for me…”

Laughing, Wei Wuxian landed flat on his back. Lan Wangji crawled over him, suddenly recovered enough to toss him there and pin his hips into the mattress. Eagerly Wei Wuxian slithered out of his sweater, flinging it across the room.

Lan Wangji froze above him, his turn to stare transfixed at the sight of Wei Wuxian’s body.

Wei Wuxian looked down. The bruises he’d acquired last night and admired that morning had bloomed further over the course of the day. Lan Wangji’s exuberance was writ all over his body. His chest was dotted black and blue, imprints of teeth around his nipples.

“Oh, yeah, this,” Wei Wuxian said proudly. He preened, admiring the canvas Lan Wangji had made of him, hissing as he thumbed at his sore nipple. “Look, it’s swollen,” he said.

“You—” Lan Wangji tentatively reached out to trace the map of where he’d been. Stricken, he withdrew his hand. “…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Ai ai ai!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “None of that. You already said you weren’t sorry.” He pressed his knee up between Lan Wangji’s legs. “He doesn’t feel sorry.”

Lan Wangji blushed a fervent red.

“And I’m not sorry,” Wei Wuxian said. “So don’t give me goosebumps, talking like that. No sorrys, and no thank yous,” he declared.

Lan Wangji gazed at him, absorbing that for a moment. He looked painfully vulnerable, almost young. Wei Wuxian wanted to kiss him, so he did so, letting Lan Wangji bite his lower lip as they parted.

“No need to say that between us,” Lan Wangji agreed solemnly, as if repeating a vow.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” Wei Wuxian said, winding his arms around his neck. “Let’s say some other things instead. Like…”

He whispered in Lan Wangji’s ear. Lan Wangji listened intently, then withdrew, reaching down beside the bed. He returned with the small bag from the pharmacy, dumping its contents out on the covers. Wei Wuxian observed him, this time with much more amusement than embarrassment as Lan Wangji sorted through the selection he’d bought. He chose one and held it up for Wei Wuxian’s approval.

“Hmm. ‘Soothing Aloe.’ All right.” Wei Wuxian grinned, kicking off his trousers, helping Lan Wangji peel him out of his underwear. There was no production to it this time: Lan Wangji, naked, simply got Wei Wuxian naked. Wei Wuxian leaned back on his elbows, knees spread, and watched Lan Wangji open the bottle of lube. Lan Wangji inspected the flip-top, then squirted a generous amount in his palm, then proceeded to squirt a further generous amount all over Wei Wuxian’s dick.

It was not a large bottle, but Lan Wangji emptied nearly half of it, using far, far too much, so much that Wei Wuxian promptly died laughing.

“It’s not hot sauce,” he cackled. “Lan Zhan! Ah ha ha ha ha ha… how much have you used?!”

“Shut up,” Lan Wangji told him, succinctly and politely.

His dick was dripping wet, not in a sexy way. Lan Wangji stroked him with the lube, pretending this amount was exactly according to plan. It was far far too much… it oozed through Lan Wangji’s fingers, sliding down between Wei Wuxian’s legs.

“Go get a towel,” Wei Wuxian told him. “I’m a Slip N’ Slide.”

Sheepishly, Lan Wangji admitted defeat. He got up off the bed. Wei Wuxian looked down at himself, experienced another bout of laughter, and decided to expedite the process. He hopped up and trailed after Lan Wangji into the bathroom, dripping his way across the floor.

“Lan Zhan, good thing it’s me. If you were trying to impress a girl, you’d never recover your face.”

Lan Wangji washed his hands and wet a washcloth, reaching for Wei Wuxian—but then he surveyed the extent of the damage.

“Bathtub?” Wei Wuxian asked hopefully.

“Later,” Lan Wangji decided, but he guided Wei Wuxian into the shower stall instead. It was enclosed in glass, not simply a showerhead in an open room like at Wei Wuxian’s place. Lan Wangji turned on the hot water and used the detachable sprayer to, well, hose Wei Wuxian down, for lack of a better term.

“Aiya, how the tables have turned,” Wei Wuxian said, lifting his arms to let Lan Wangji rinse him clean. He took the opportunity to peruse the bottles lined up on the built-in shelf, opening and sniffing their contents.

“What are you doing?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose, snapping the shampoo lid shut. At the body wash, he made a hmm face, but ultimately dismissed it too. “Trying to find what makes you smell so good,” he said.

Lan Wangji huffed, amused. He cleaned himself off for good measure and shut off the water. Squeaky clean, Wei Wuxian stepped out and dripped on the bath mat, lifting his arms again, letting Lan Wangji towel him dry. When that was mostly accomplished, Wei Wuxian jumped into his arms, clinging like a naked spider monkey.

“Back to bed,” he ordered.

Lan Wangji bit his collarbone in a teasing, warning bite. He backed Wei Wuxian against the shower stall instead, locking Wei Wuxian’s legs around his waist.

“Show-off,” Wei Wuxian accused him. “Come on, don’t play around. Take me back to bed and fuck me.”

Lan Wangji contemplated him for a moment, then set him down. He spun Wei Wuxian around to face the glass and pinned him there with his body.

“Ah ha ha ha,” Wei Wuxian laughed, his breath puffing a cloud of condensation against the shower door. “Very funny. Lan Zhan, didn’t you hear me? I said don’t play around.”

“Ssh,” Lan Wangji said, tracing his hands down Wei Wuxian’s sides, palming the slight curve of his waist. He circled his thumbs on his hipbones, burying his face in his neck, breathing him in.

“Lan Zhan, what are you—ow!”

Lan Wangji pinched him sharply on the ass, then soothed that spot. Thoughtfully he looked down, spreading Wei Wuxian’s flesh with both hands. He nestled his burgeoning erection there, blunt and imposing.

“Ha ha ha,” Wei Wuxian said, wobbling a little, splaying his hands on the glass to compensate for the structural integrity of his knees. This had been what he planned on when they first arrived home, actually, Lan Wangji bossy and determined to get his hands on his body. He arched his back, rubbing a little against Lan Wangji.

“Behave,” Lan Wangji requested, breath tickling the nape of Wei Wuxian’s neck.

“Er-gege,” Wei Wuxian said, breathless and faltering. “What are you going to do to me?”

Lan Wangji paused, as if contemplating how far to go with the act. Wei Wuxian writhed again, and was rewarded by Lan Wangji reaching around him, taking firm hold of his dick.

“Easy!” he hissed, chuckling a little. “Lan Zhan, a gentleman doesn’t use force.”

His poor dick, in the shower, had gone from hard and over-lubed to soft and squeaky clean. Now his blood was rushing there again with dizzying speed. Lan Wangji toyed with him a little, fondling and squeezing him, pressing kisses to the top of Wei Wuxian’s spine. He “mn”-ed with pleasure as Wei Wuxian hardened fully and eagerly in his hand.

“I’m not very wet,” Wei Wuxian observed. “We don’t have lube in here. Didn’t you make a fuss about lube? You can’t do me like this.”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji said. He licked a spot on Wei Wuxian’s neck that felt bruised from last night, then bit it again. As Wei Wuxian gasped, he dragged his thumb across the head of his dick, coaxing it into producing a drop of moisture.

“Fuck,” Wei Wuxian whispered.

“Wet,” Lan Wangji observed, deadpan.

Fuck. Lan Wangji was a monster. “You’re a monster,” Wei Wuxian told him out loud. “You menace. How dare you. You—aah—”

He choked off the words as, silently, Lan Wangji squeezed his dick in a punishing grip. Wei Wuxian did indeed grow wet, dripping wet, babbling a little, ranting about how Lan Wangji was not allowed to treat him like this. Lan Wangji simply listened and stroked him until his hand was gliding up and down with ease, undoing the effects of the shower.

“Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian panted.

Lan Wangji’s hand slowed, more like caressing him than jerking him off. “Do you not wish to come?” he asked politely.

Wei Wuxian thunked his forehead on the glass, enough wits about him to harken back to what had happened last night. He laughed in defeat, utterly vanquished.

“Yes, I wish to come,” he said indignantly. “Take me back to bed like I told you to and fuck me properly.”

Instead, Lan Wangji slicked his hand on Wei Wuxian’s dick. He considered a moment, then let it go, experimentally smearing that slick on the back of Wei Wuxian’s thighs.

“Fuck,” Wei Wuxian whispered once more, with feeling.

Lan Wangji did it again, slicking his hand, then spreading it throughly between Wei Wuxian’s thighs that time.

“Lan Zhan, you can’t… we need lube,” Wei Wuxian informed him, in a truly hilarious and frankly uncalled-for reversal of fortune.

Lan Wangji ignored him and kissed his neck again. He slicked his own cock like a madman, then lined up and pushed it between Wei Wuxian’s thighs.

It was not inside him, but it was still… fuck, still hot and thick, just wet enough to glide with the barest hint of friction. Wei Wuxian’s knees almost buckled.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, okay. Fuck.”

“Tighter,” Lan Wangji murmured, and Wei Wuxian did his best to lock his knees together as Lan Wangji began to thrust.

This was the hottest thing that had ever happened in Wei Wuxian’s life. Well, the fourth or fifth hottest thing, if they were counting last night. But Wei Wuxian lived in the moment. “Nobody’s ever—” he whimpered, “ever treated me like this.”

“You are doing well,” Lan Wangji murmured in his ear.

Wei Wuxian made a deeply undignified noise. He muffled his mouth against his hand, making a mess of the glass.

“Er-gege,” he begged pitifully.

Lan Wangji steadily increased the pace of his thrusts.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan—er-gege, wait. Think about what you’re doing.” Wei Wuxian bit back a moan at Lan Wangji’s hands on his hips, holding him in place. “Come on, be reasonable. Think about what it looks like, what would someone say if they saw you? Aaah, no no no—take it easy!” Lan Wangji’s thrusts were increasing with exponential enthusiasm. “Have mercy! You really can’t treat this poor helpless virgin like this.”

“Not a virgin,” Lan Wangji said with relish.

“Well, I was last night!” Wei Wuxian squawked. “I didn’t see you showing me any mercy then!”

Behind him, Lan Wangji’s hips slowed a fraction.

“…Last night?” Lan Wangji said.

“I didn’t expect, you know, soft candlelight and roses my first time,” sulked Wei Wuxian mournfully, who had, yes, absolutely expected candlelight and roses his first time. “But you were really too mean to me.”

Lan Wangji went completely still. “First time.”

“Mmhmm. I told you,” Wei Wuxian said. “First time. First kiss. First everything.”

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened. “…First time,” he repeated.

Apparently they were not yet done with the revelations for the evening.

Wei Wuxian gawked. “Lan Zhan, don’t tell me you not only fucked me when you thought I was going to marry Mianmian, but you didn’t even know you took my virginity?!”

Lan Wangji colored so prettily that Wei Wuxian, sandwiched between his chest and the glass, had to squirm and twist halfway around to see it.

“You… you said…” Lan Wangji stammered.

Wei Wuxian cast his mind back, remembering one or two things he had said on the subject, full of bravado and lies about his own experience so that Lan Wangji wouldn’t freak out on him. He would have doubled over with laughter if Lan Wangji didn’t have him pinned to the glass.

“I say a lot of things!! Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian’s dick left a wet streak across the glass where he was shaking with laughter. “Only an uptight virgin like you would believe a word I said! I bet you’ve never even kissed somebody, but here I was, just naturally good at it…”

Lan Wangji turned Wei Wuxian’s face toward him and crushed his mouth with a kiss.

“We didn’t do too bad, considering,” Wei Wuxian reflected a few minutes later, lips bitten and sore. Lan Wangji positioned him back against the glass, hands braced by his head. “You were my first, and I was your first. I’m overjoyed, Lan Zhan.”

He waited to see if Lan Wangji would correct him on the latter point, but he did not. I really was his first, Wei Wuxian thought, the words singing beneath his skin. He spread his legs automatically, pushing back against Lan Wangji, but Lan Wangji pressed his legs back together. Ah, right. Wei Wuxian clenched them.

“I forgive you,” he said, magnanimous, now that he was about to get fucked, “for treating me like that.”

“There is no need,” Lan Wangji murmured, lips pressed against his shoulder, “for thank yous or sorrys between us.”

“Aiya, why are you using my words against me!!” Wei Wuxian wailed.

Lan Wangji slicked his thighs again, leaking profusely himself now, and buried himself there, letting out a ragged breath.

“Then do not speak.”

“But I have to speak. I have a mouth, don’t I? What else am I gonna use it for?” Wei Wuxian grinned impishly, bracing himself for Lan Wangji’s thrusts.

“Then bear the consequences of your actions,” Lan Wangji panted.

“I’m not the one who just got ten times harder when he found out I’m a virgin,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, and then gasped out loud as Lan Wangji’s hips slammed so roughly into him that he slammed against the glass. “Easy, eaaaa-sy!” he pleaded, bracing himself lest he get crushed. “I told you, er-gege, have mercy…”

Lan Wangji did not. He fucked Wei Wuxian as thoroughly as if he were inside him, until Wei Wuxian was trembling, fighting against every urge in his body to spread his legs as wide as they would go. It was torture like this, being forced, being used. He fucking loved it.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I need to come,” he announced. “Touch me. Put your hand on me.”

Lan Wangji did not obey, not slowing his movements. “…Not yet,” he decided.

Wei Wuxian whined in despair, heat sparking down his spine, down the inside of his thighs. Lan Wangji couldn’t even hit his prostate like this, but it felt like he was hitting it with his words. Wei Wuxian said something out loud to that effect, describing incoherently what it felt like, getting fucked like this, desperate to come and for Lan Wangji to come too, to put him out of his misery.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji murmured with his own trace of despair, and then Wei Wuxian gasped again, truly unable to speak or laugh or breathe. Lan Wangji fucked the words and the breath out of him, not even inside him but fucking into his thighs hard and fast, rearranging once again everything Wei Wuxian thought he knew about sex.

Lan Wangji finished just like that, hands digging into Wei Wuxian’s waist, reaching down to hold his shaky thighs together when Wei Wuxian couldn’t do it himself. Come dripped between his legs, over his balls, making a mess of him all over again, the way they had with the lube. Wei Wuxian, in turn, made a mess of the glass. He sobbed and begged until he finally got Lan Wangji’s hand on him, and came almost as soon as he was touched.

“Lan Zhan,” he sighed with fervor when the ordeal was over, collapsing weakly against the ruined shower door.

Lan Wangji collapsed with him, breathing hard, a welcome, sweaty sandwich now. “Mn,” he said, fingers tracing where the come was sliding down Wei Wuxian’s skin.

Wei Wuxian shivered, oversensitized. “You’ve made a mess again, gege,” he mumbled. “Bad boy. You’re gonna have to clean me all up.”

His dick still pulsed as Lan Wangji, face still buried in his neck, kissed him with tender, fervent care. “Yes,” Lan Wangji acknowledged.

Another minute passed in silence. Neither of them moved.

“Hey, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian said.

“What is it?”

“…Bathtub?” Wei Wuxian asked hopefully.

Lan Wangji paused, then briefly shook with silent laughter, tightening his arms around him.

“No? Yes?” Wei Wuxian guessed.

“…Later,” Lan Wangji decided, pinching the inside of his thigh, making Wei Wuxian moan.

Chapter Text

“Mmmmm,” Wei Wuxian said at some unearthly hour long before dawn.

Sleepily, he stirred, nuzzling the warm body beneath him. He was draped face down across the warm chest like a blanket, warm hands roaming his back.

“Mm, go on, put in me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Imwake,” he said, asleep.

The fingers that had trailed down to explore the curve of his ass froze as if caught in a terrible action.

“This,” Wei Wuxian clarified, reaching down behind him to rub and fumble with the part that was pressed hot against him, trying to fit it inside himself at entirely the wrong angle.

A soft huff of breath. A voice said his name.

“Then you do it,” he mumbled petulantly, and sighed with happiness at the small telltale snick of a lid snapping. Cool liquid touched his skin, then the warm fingers slid inside him. He went lax again with pleasure, his body responding to the touch like a finely-tuned instrument. It was almost enough just like this, but after a while, the hands finally shifted his body into the right angle, and something hotter, thicker, and slicker than the fingers pressed its way inside.

“Ahhh,” Wei Wuxian sighed with pleasure. He shuddered as it eased in. The warm fingers returned, guiding it when it slipped out to seat it all the way inside him.

It felt like an hour, or much more, or much less as he drifted. It might have even been half the night, intervals of rest and then pleasure where their bodies were joined. The pillow grew damp beneath his mouth, his own skin damp too, below his waist. Wei Wuxian might have even come, before the hands and cock were done with him. He was rolled onto his back, the warm mouth kissing him, licking up the mess he made.

“Isssyou,” he murmured happily, nonsensically, hugging the one who finally collapsed in his arms. Wei Wuxian held him tightly, confiding a few more nonsensical syllables, and the sleep that had never fully left him tugged him back down deep.

Bright sunlight striped the bed when Wei Wuxian finally stirred.

He groaned at the onslaught of it, reaching for a pillow to drag over his head. He napped a while longer like that, blissfully dead to the world, then yawned a jaw-cracking yawn and forced himself to stir again, making a second attempt to rouse himself back to the land of the living. He stretched his back, sprawling his limbs out in the obscenely high thread count sheets. For a while he just lay there, basking in the pleasant ache of his body, still in the process of convincing his eyes to open when something soft and warm nosed his cheek.

“Aiya what? Oh, hello,” he said, cracking one eyelid open.

The white bunny was hunched in a loaf, contemplating him at close range. Wei Wuxian reached over to give his ears a scratch but the bunny twitched and withdrew, hopping quickly back to safety.

“Wah,” Wei Wuxian pouted, then grinned at the sight of Lan Wangji capturing the bunny, cradling the timid creature in his lap. “Good morning,” he said warmly, voice still scratchy with sleep.

“Good morning,” Lan Wangji replied, just as soft and warm. He reached out to corral the second bunny away from disturbing Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian snatched him up, wriggling the feisty creature mid-air and booping him with his nose.

“You’re nicer to me than your brother,” Wei Wuxian informed him. “…Than your boyfriend? Lan Zhan,” he said, remembering the rabbits’ activities the previous day. “Did you adopt kinky, perverted rabbits? Aren’t they supposed to be siblings??”

With a sigh that was either long-suffering or deeply affectionate—why not both?—Lan Wangji rescued the bunny from his hands. “The rabbits’ proclivities are not your concern,” he said with such impeccable deadpan delivery that Wei Wuxian cackled out loud.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he said, untangling himself from the sheets just enough so he could crawl up and kiss Lan Wangji good morning. Or good afternoon, in Lan Wangji land. “You’re not naked. Why aren’t you naked? Have you been awake since 5 AM?”

Lan Wangji, sitting propped against the pillows in the massive bed, hair immaculate, dressed in what appeared to be obscenely high thread count lounge clothes, said, “Mn.”

“Whyyyyy?” Wei Wuxian moaned at this travesty. He cracked another huge yawn and flopped down on the pillows, snuggling back into the vicinity of Lan Wangji’s body heat. “It’s the weekend. It’s against the law to be conscious before noon.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Lan Wangji said.

“It’s not T—wait, it’s Tuesday. Fuck.” Wei Wuxian’s groan might have been more heartfelt that time. “Well, the question still stands. Why are you even conscious before noon?”

Lan Wangji arched a judgmental eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wei Wuxian grumbled good-naturedly. He grinned at the shy rabbit, making a second attempt to scratch his ears. The bunny tolerated it that time, since he was safely tucked in Lan Wangji’s lap. “I guess it’s back to work, huh? It is for me, anyway. But not ’til noon. You?”

“Mn.”

“Right away? Right now?” Wei Wuxian couldn’t help a little mournful feeling creeping over his heart.

“Nothing that cannot be postponed until noon,” said Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian beamed at him with pride. “That’s the spirit. You rebel.” He scratched the second rabbit’s chin, who was having a harder time remaining content in Lan Wangji’s lap. “Hey, I know, how about this—come by the wine shop tonight when you’re done. My treat, it’s a date.”

“I…”

To Wei Wuxian’s surprise, Lan Wangji hesitated. Then Wei Wuxian clapped a hand on his forehead, remembering. “Ah, right. Tuesday. Dinner with your uncle.” He made sad doe eyes at Lan Wangji. “I knew Tuesdays were my least favorite day of the week.”

“I will cancel,” Lan Wangji said without hesitation.

Wei Wuxian squeezed his knee affectionately. “Nah, you can’t. Lan Zhan, I already stole his prize cabbage—you want your uncle to start haunting me from beyond the grave before he’s even in the grave?” Wei Wuxian shuddered. “No thank you.”

Lan Wangji suppressed a small smile. Wei Wuxian kissed his cheek.

“Am I the cabbage in this scenario?” Lan Wangji inquired.

“Hey, if you’re offended, think about it. That makes me the wild pig.”

“That does seem unnecessarily offensive to both of us.”

“Then I won’t even mention the one about the pig cage.” Wei Wuxian kissed his cheek again. “Go see your uncle. It’s all right, I’ll extract my payment and/or vengeance on you later.”

Wei Wuxian paused, considering.

“Unless…” he said, dragging out the last syllable.

“…What is it?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian walked his fingers up Lan Wangji’s thigh. “I’m naked. You could get naked. We don’t have to be anywhere before noon. How about you put the bunnies up and we’ll…” Wei Wuxian trailed off.

Lan Wangji looked at him expectantly.

“Actually… uh…” Wei Wuxian took quick stock of his body, shifting uncomfortably. He winced. “Uhh… hold that thought.”

A tiny smile twitched Lan Wangji’s lips. “Bathroom is that way,” he said formally, gesturing to the doorway.

Wei Wuxian shot him a baleful glare for daring to tease him at this hour of the morning, then had to abandon all hope of sexiness or dignity.

“I won’t be long,” he promised, scooting across Lan Wangji to reach the edge of the bed.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, as Wei Wuxian stole a quick kiss from his lips. “I will be here.”

Lan Wangji, such a good boyfriend, had at some point between last night and this morning restored the bathroom to its pristine state. There were no damp towels on the floor, no telltale signs of sexual crimes committed against the shower stall. The room gleamed spotlessly in the morning sunlight, green and gold filtering in through the evergreens outside, an experience altogether more lovely than Wei Wuxian was accustomed to at this hour of the day.

In fact… much as he’d planned to rush back to Lan Wangji, it felt downright luxurious as he availed himself of the various amenities. The bidet had features—he tested each one. On a whim, he treated himself to a quick shower, sampling Lan Wangji’s soap and body scrub. His new toothbrush was in the cup by the sink—he proceeded to make quick use of it, shamelessly snooping through Lan Wangji’s medicine cabinet as he swished the bristles around in his mouth. Finding nothing more incriminating than antihistamines and high-end skin care, he dabbed a fancy-looking serum all over his face and donned Lan Wangji’s white silk robe, rolling up the too-long sleeves.

“Hungry?” he asked, poking his head back in the bedroom.

Lan Wangji looked up from where he was communing silently with the rabbits. His eyes locked on the robe Wei Wuxian wore for a flattering amount of seconds, then he tore his gaze upwards. He shook his head, but started to get up, as if abashed he’d let one of Wei Wuxian’s needs go unattended.

“Ai ai ai.” Wei Wuxian stopped him. “Snuggle your bunnies. I’m just gonna grab some juice.”

“In the kitchen…” Lan Wangji said, but Wei Wuxian was already retreating.

“I won’t be long,” he promised again, blowing Lan Wangji a kiss over his shoulder.

The tour Lan Wangji had given him the previous night had been more recreational than exhaustive, and Wei Wuxian had been preoccupied with other things. He relied on his memory of it now, wandering down the hallway in what he hoped was the general direction of the kitchen. He continued to snoop behind closed doors, discovering a laundry room and a linen closet, and then he arrived at a glass wall overlooking a different view of the courtyard.

It, like the bathroom—like the entirety of this house—was lovely this time of morning. Light spilled across the mossy stones, the thick ferns glistening with dew. A fountain trickled in the corner, spilling into a small, clear pond. The scene was like something out of a painting, serene and golden. And then Wei Wuxian turned and found it was a painting, on the wall behind him.

Whoever the artist was, they had rendered the scene he’d just admired in loving detail. It was the same courtyard, the same garden, but in autumn instead of early spring—thick evergreens and golden ginkgo trees, a delicate profusion of purple gentians.

It was all so very Lan Zhan that it made Wei Wuxian’s chest ache. He had a sudden vision of a vague but deeply appealing future: Lan Wangji in the garden, digging flowers; Lan Wangji in the library, marking his students’ compositions; Lan Wangji in the kitchen, dicing vegetables for their evening meal. They would need to build a rabbit hutch—maybe Wei Wuxian could talk him into adding a herb garden too, a small plot for radishes and melons. There would be milestones in this house—birthdays and celebrations alongside the mundane every day. Low-key gatherings, probably in this very courtyard, with Lan Wangji’s brother, maybe even his uncle; with the Wens and Mianmian. He pictured A-Yuan at ten years old, grown up alongside the rabbits, perhaps alongside brothers or sisters—

Wei Wuxian shook his head to clear it, although that did nothing for the twinge of longing in his chest. He detoured into the library to distract himself, a room he’d only barely glanced at the night before.

It was just as tastefully appointed as the rest of the house, but perhaps a bit more well-loved. Someone spent time in here—not that any room showed neglect, but a trace of incense hung in the air, and the desktop and bookshelves were dust-free from daily use instead of just thorough housekeeping. There was even clutter on the desk—Lan Wangji’s version of it anyway. Wei Wuxian thumbed through the short stack of books, flipping to the bookmarks, reading the notes in Lan Wangji’s elegant handwriting. A piece of sheet music fluttered out, and Wei Wuxian scanned over the composition that was—incredibly beautiful, actually. It was elegant and precise, written with both expertise and emotion. It would soar with the right accompaniment, filling an entire room, or become wistful, intimate, even melancholy on a lone instrument in a minor key. His fingers itched to play it—perhaps he and Lan Wangji could do so later. For now, he tucked it back in place, moving on to peruse a discreet and tasteful display of awards, arranged alongside family photographs.

That was where Lan Wangji found him a few minutes later, appearing in the doorway behind him.

“Here you are,” Lan Wangji said.

“Lan Zhan, look what I found!” Wei Wuxian turned, holding up the framed picture in his hands. In it was a woman who could only be Lan Wangji’s mother—young and pretty, dark-haired and dark-eyed, holding a chubby, stern-faced child who could only be Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji came to stand by his side, regarding his baby-faced self.

“You’re so cuuuuute. Like a little chipmunk,” Wei Wuxian cooed, poking at baby Lan Wangji’s cheeks. “Soft and fat like a little baozi. Lan Zhan, how were you ever this small??”

“Most people are when they are young,” Lan Wangji commented.

Wei Wuxian elbowed him in the ribs that were decidedly far less soft and fat now. He carefully returned the frame to the shelf, then peered at the adjacent portrait. “Who’s this?” he asked. “Your father?”

“My uncle,” Lan Wangji said.

The man glared ominously at Wei Wuxian, decidedly not soft, fat, or cute in any way. Wei Wuxian stuck out his tongue just on principle. “He looks delightful. Definitely the kind of person who would haunt me just for kicks. Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, a little ominously too. He trailed after Wei Wuxian, who ditched the stuffy uncle and came to stop in front of a painting that spanned nearly the entire west wall.

“Wow,” Wei Wuxian said. “Wow. Is this the same artist as the painting in the hallway?”

Lan Wangji gave a nod.

“I thought so. The brushstrokes.” It was exquisite, done in four panels, depicting the four seasons. The light changed with each panel, flowing like water over the vast landscape of mountains and rivers. “…You?” Wei Wuxian said in amazement, catching sight of the 蓝 character in the corner. He leaned closer. No, 蓝曦臣, which would be…

“My brother,” Lan Wangji confirmed.

“Wow. It’s incredible. He’s very talented,” Wei Wuxian said with heartfelt admiration.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji agreed. And then, after a pause, he said, “If it were up to him, I believe he would rather be an artist.”

It was a fit of uncharacteristic personal disclosure. Well, not so uncharacteristic now, Wei Wuxian considered. He looked at Lan Wangji.

“Instead of…?” he prompted.

“Carrying on the family legacy.”

Lan Wangji said it, then looked startled, as if speaking the words out loud gave them unexpected weight. His brow furrowed as he continued to gaze at the painting, perhaps considering it, and his brother—perhaps his entire family—in a new light.

“And what about you?” Wei Wuxian asked.

A moment passed before Lan Wangji blinked, turning to look at him.

“Who would you be,” Wei Wuxian elaborated, “if it were up to you, and nobody else? If you weren’t born a prestigious Lan?”

The silence stretched out. Lan Wangji looked perplexed, even unsettled, as if the thought had genuinely not occurred to him. “I… do not know,” he said finally.

Wei Wuxian tucked himself against Lan Wangji’s side, leaning against him, prompting Lan Wangji to wrap an arm around his waist. Lan Wangji did so naturally, as if they had touched like this for years.

“Well, that’s all right,” Wei Wuxian assured him. “There’s plenty of time to figure it out. On our farm. With our rabbits. After we elope and get disowned.”

Lan Wangji smiled at him then—a small, real smile, completely unhidden. And apparently completely unbothered by this dire prediction of their fortunes.

“Do you like that, Lan-er-gege?” Wei Wuxian tickled him under his chin. “Do you want a fat, grumpy baby and a fat, grumpy wife?”

As if the smile weren’t enough to scramble Wei Wuxian’s brain, Lan Wangji emitted a small, real laugh.

“‘Ridiculous’?” Wei Wuxian predicted, saying the word for him, grinning.

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji agreed, but leaned in and kissed Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Wei Wuxian kissed him back, just beginning to deepen it when Lan Wangji parted abruptly, casting a look down at Wei Wuxian’s stomach, which had chosen that moment to rumble loudly with hunger.

“Aiya, don’t mind us,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, patting his belly as if speaking for two. “We’re always grumpy this time of morning.”

At the look on Lan Wangji’s face, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He kissed Lan Wangji again, and let Lan Wangji take his hand, leading him out into the hallway.

“Hey, bedroom’s that way,” Wei Wuxian said. “Where are we going?”

“Breakfast,” Lan Wangji said firmly, and Wei Wuxian’s laughter echoed off the walls.

In hindsight, Wei Wuxian really felt he should have seen this coming.

There was breakfast in the kitchen. Not just juice—not cold leftovers foraged from the fridge. He’d meant it earlier, he really had intended to just grab something to drink—he could eat what Granny Wen left out for him later at work. But Lan Wangji stood in the bright, sunny kitchen and unwrapped a dozen sticks of youtiao, fried crisp and golden, from the soggy brown paper. There was fresh soy milk too, still gently steaming. Apparently Lan Wangji, the type of person who went for jogs before dawn, had bought it from a street cart down the road while Wei Wuxian was still a puddle of drool in his bed.

“Lan Zhan—” Wei Wuxian said, staring at the soy milk, which was tinged red with chili oil. “You really—did all this for me?”

“I believe you once said you liked it,” Lan Wangji replied.

No, once upon a time he had gone on passionate tangent about its colloquial name, you zha gui, deep fried ghosts, rhapsodizing at length about the legend behind it. Just some no-name cook, sticking it to the emperor’s right-hand man, Wei Wuxian had said, with joyful relish.

“Do you remember everything I’ve ever told you?” Wei Wuxian accused him.

“Not everything,” Lan Wangji said cryptically, putting on the pot for tea.

They ate right there, Wei Wuxian too hungry, now that he was confronted with food, to behave like a proper houseguest. He hopped up to sit on the countertop, talking with his mouth full, declaring that Lan Wangji would be in charge of breakfast every day now too. Lan Wangji indulged him, “mn”-ing through a partial monologue about the deep fried ghosts again. When Wei Wuxian drained the cup of soy milk, Lan Wangji had another ready to replace it, steaming it on the stovetop, adding an excess of chili oil. There were pickled vegetables too, which Lan Wangji ate himself. Fried rice buns, in case the youtiao wasn’t sufficient. Wei Wuxian didn’t have a monologue prepared about them—mianwo, rice nest, was more descriptive than inspiring. Instead, he finally lapsed into a comfortable silence, dipping the last of the youtiao in the last of the soy milk, as Lan Wangji quietly sipped his tea.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he said after a moment, watching the birds flit in the garden.

“Mn?”

“All of this.” Wei Wuxian gestured around him, encompassing the immaculate, rather luxurious little house. “…You know what I did, right? You know I’m probably never gonna have something like this?”

Lan Wangji set his tea cup down with what was, for him, a rattled little clink.

“The accolades,” Wei Wuxian went on, thinking back to the shelf in the library. “The career, the money, the prestige, the reputation that won’t besmirch your good name.” He laughed a little wryly to himself, tipping the last of the soy milk into his mouth. “If that’s a dealbreaker, I—” He gave Lan Wangji a tight, brave smile. “—I just think I’d rather know now, that’s all.”

A deep crease had etched itself into Lan Wangji’s brow. Wei Wuxian reached out with his thumb to smooth it away.

“It’s just, you said yesterday how I should do more with my life,” Wei Wuxian explained. “And… well, I may or may not do that.” He sighed. “If that’s a problem, I thought you should know.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. “…I said what?”

“At the farm, to the auntie. You said I should be working at the top agency in the country, and—”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji interrupted him with uncharacteristic rudeness. “You should be working there because you should not have been fired for exposing their corruption.”

“I—what?” Wei Wuxian said.

“You should not be the one to pay the price for their crimes. That is what I meant.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said. He inhaled. “Oh.”

There was a momentary silence, and then Lan Wangji continued his brief, impassioned speech. “They caused immeasurable destruction. You… you stood by your principles in order to prevent them from causing more. Nonetheless, that responsibility should not have fallen on your shoulders. Others should have had the courage and integrity to speak up.”

“Mianmian did,” Wei Wuxian said ruefully. “It didn’t go well for her either. Hey, how’s that for some accolades? We bankrupted the top two environmental technology corporations in the country, for colluding to despoil thousands of acres then cover up toxic waste.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, in a petty little tone of vengeance that meant they deserved it.

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Just not before Wen Qing’s family lost their land.”

“But not their lives.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said. “…Yeah.”

His eyes welled, picturing the faces he saw over breakfast, lunch, or dinner nearly every day. Little A-Yuan tugging his leg, begging Wei Wuxian to play with his stuffed frog, or rabbit, or donkey—whichever one was his favorite that day. Wei Wuxian laughed to himself, and wiped his eyes.

“I don’t regret it,” he confessed. “In hindsight, I might try to cause a little less collateral damage—” He pictured other faces then, Jiang Cheng’s rage and confusion; Jiang Yanli’s brave support, torn between standing by him and controlling the damage to her husband’s family name— “But I don’t regret it.”

“You are not the one who caused the damage,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian swallowed past the knot in his throat. Leave it to Lan Wangji to say what he hadn’t even realized he needed to hear. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Lan Wangji’s hand came to rest on his knee. “There is no need,” he said.

“Ha ha, I know, I know. No thank yous or sorrys.” Wei Wuxian gave him a watery smile, then exhaled a deep breath in a rush. He squeezed Lan Wangji’s hand. “So Lan Zhan, you don’t care if I tragically don’t have a penny to my name?”

Lan Wangji’s gaze softened, which was quite the feat, given how soft it was already. He shook his head.

“And if my good name and good reputation is dust?”

Lan Wangji shook his head again, no.

“What if I ruin your good name, just by association?”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji threaded their fingers together. “What I have is yours. And yours is mine. If others find it lacking, that is their problem.”

Wei Wuxian laughed messily, wiping his nose on the white sleeve. “I’m getting snot on your robe.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji continued, undeterred by this information. “It may be… unconventional, but you have made a life for yourself. You are surrounded by people who care for you. That is more than many have in a lifetime.”

Wei Wuxian brushed at his eyes again, his heart squeezing to pulp in his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted softly. “And I’m not saying I wanna run the wine shop forever. But—I like it. For now. I really do. No politics, no bullshit. I like the people, the challenge.”

“Mn. You are good at it,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian laughed even more messily. “What’s gotten into you today, huh? How are you so talkative now? Saying all these things—my heart can’t take it.”

“I am sorry I haven’t said this before now,” Lan Wangji said with grave sincerity. “I am sorry you didn’t know.”

“Aiya, stop.” Wei Wuxian cupped his face with both hands, pressing his thumb to Lan Wangji’s lips. “What did we just say? No sorrys, no thank yous.”

Lan Wangji kissed the pad of his thumb. Then he drew it in his mouth, gently catching it with his teeth.

Wei Wuxian pushed against his tongue, making Lan Wangji bite down harder. He fucking loved Lan Wangji so much his stomach felt a little nauseous with it, rocked like a paper boat on a tidal wave. “Come here,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

Lan Wangji stepped closer. Wei Wuxian drew him in between his legs where he was still perched on the countertop, wrapping his arms around him. He squeezed tight, burying his face in Lan Wangji’s hair. Ahhh, there it was, uncorrupted by apple-scented shampoos or Wei Wuxian’s laundry detergent. Just the scent of sandalwood and Lan Wangji, warm and intoxicating. Wei Wuxian breathed it in. It smelled like home in a way that nothing else had, not for a really long time.

“Hey, Lan Zhan?” he said, before he did something inconvenient, like demand wedlock on the spot. “Kiss me,” he requested.

Lan Wangji did. The kiss was long and sweet, serious, as soft as the light sifting in through the windows. Wei Wuxian tipped his head, letting their tongues slide together, the kiss an answer, not a question. He finally pulled back, folding his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders, not letting go.

“I’m a messy person,” Wei Wuxian said. “You should probably know that too. You don’t know what you’re getting into. I leave my dishes in the sink and my socks on the floor.”

Lan Wangji nodded stoically. “I know. I have seen where you live.”

“Hey! That was pretty clean.” Wei Wuxian thought back to his apartment—there had been the pile of (freshly laundered!) clothes, the chaotic mountain of papers where he was researching the ecological impact of large-scale hydroponic farming. A few toys of A-Yuan’s in the corners. But it was clean, no science experiments growing mold in the kitchen. “You’re the one who wrecked my bathroom,” he pointed out.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji acknowledged fairly.

“And your own. Actually, Lan Zhan, think about it—you’re the one who’s made a mess every time. So which one of us is the problem, huh?”

“The fault is mine,” Lan Wangji agreed too easily.

“Are you going to be this way now too?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, and kissed him again.

Wei Wuxian lost himself in it. He let himself be loved and lavished with the kind of care and devotion he wanted to give Lan Wangji in return. It was giving him goosebumps again, so for his sanity, in a shameless reprise of last night, he reached down and groped Lan Wangji between his legs.

Wei Wuxian froze. He detached his mouth from Lan Wangji’s mouth.

“Uhhh…?” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Wangji regarded him with a straight face.

Wei Wuxian felt him up more throughly. The loose, flowy lounge pants hid nothing.

“Are you not wearing any underwear?” Wei Wuxian hissed.

Lan Wangji replied, “You said you wished for me not to.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped open. He began to speak, but nothing came out.

“Wei Ying, are you all right?” Lan Wangji asked after a moment.

“No, I’m not all right. Fuck!” Wei Wuxian said.

“We may do so, if you wish,” Lan Wangji said placidly. “Fuck,” he explained.

Wei Wuxian stared at him. “You… you…” he sputtered, then swore. “Fuck, I’ve created a monster.”

Incensed, he hopped down off the countertop. He grabbed Lan Wangji’s hand, marching him toward the bedroom. Obediently, Lan Wangji followed, leaving the mess in the kitchen without so much as a comment.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Wei Wuxian warned. “Lan Zhan, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. You have brought this on yourself.”

Lan Wangji, amusement clearly rippling through his voice, said, “Mn.”

It was about time Wei Wuxian was the one who got to do this.

He discovered it was just as much fun from this side of things: tossing Lan Wangji down on the bed, gracefully pouncing atop him. He mauled him with deep, clumsy kisses, pushing Lan Wangji’s shirt up, greedily dragging his hands all over that warm, exposed skin. Lan Wangji felt wonderful like this. There should be a new rule: topless only, under this roof. It made Wei Wuxian giggle to himself as he kissed Lan Wangji, stroking his flanks, his broad chest, his insensitive nipples that did little for Lan Wangji but still did a lot for Wei Wuxian, just getting to see them and feel them. Teasing one into a peak with his thumb, he sat upright, breaking the kiss to peel the shirt over Lan Wangji’s head.

“This what you had in mind?” Wei Wuxian asked him, grinning, a little breathless already.

In answer, Lan Wangji flipped him onto his back. He raked his hands up Wei Wuxian’s thighs, bunching the robe to his waist.

“Ai ai ai!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, demurely pushing the garment back down. He captured Lan Wangji’s wrists, preventing further disrobing. “Not so fast. You did all the work yesterday, it’s my turn today.”

Lan Wangji arched a silent, eloquent eyebrow.

“Don’t think I can??” Wei Wuxian exerted his strength, rolling Lan Wangji back beneath him. He pinned Lan Wangji’s hips with his own, locking his knees tightly on either side of his waist. Leaning down over him, he pushed Lan Wangji’s arms into the mattress above his head. “Gotcha,” Wei Wuxian murmured, triumphant.

Lan Wangji instinctively tensed his muscles to fight back, but then forced them to relax. “You have got me,” he agreed.

Grinning, Wei Wuxian cocked his head to one side. “But what should I do with you, hmm? What did Lan Zhan want to happen when he paraded around half dressed to provoke me?”

Another ripple of tension, barely visible, like a tiny pebble dropped in a vast pond. Lan Wangji suppressed that too.

“You were so talkative earlier. What happened? Facts beat eloquence, is that it?” Wei Wuxian leaned close, pinning him with one hand, running his mouth along the tendon corded in Lan Wangji’s neck, trailing his other hand down between Lan Wangji’s legs. Another pebble in the pond, another ripple. “Lan Zhan, say something. You’re not being very much fun to play with. Shouldn’t you be begging me to let you go?”

“Let me go,” Lan Wangji requested dutifully.

Wei Wuxian laughed out loud. “That’s all you’ve got?” To inspire him, he bit the curve where Lan Wangji’s neck met his shoulder, then soothed it with his tongue, fondling him a bit more roughly. Not even a ripple that time. “Fine, then.” Wei Wuxian sighed, sitting upright. “Untie me.”

Lan Wangji looked at him, blankly quizzical.

“My robe, untie it.”

“My robe?” Lan Wangji inquired.

Better. Much better. Wei Wuxian grinned at him proudly. “Your robe, that I’m wearing, so it’s mine now. ‘What’s yours is mine.’ Untie it.”

Lan Wangji looked down, then back up. He flexed a wrist in Wei Wuxian’s grip, indicating his inability to comply with this order.

“Aiya, so polite,” Wei Wuxian complained. He let go, placing the end of the sash in Lan Wangji’s palm.

The robe was silk, slippery and loose, barely tied around his waist. Lan Wangji gave the sash a light tug. The knot unspooled, the robe falling open, baring Wei Wuxian from his chest to his navel. As if magnetized, Lan Wangji’s hand went to his bare skin, stroking down his chest before Wei Wuxian caught it again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “Did I say you could touch me, huh? Give me your hands.”

A spark flared in Lan Wangji’s eyes. For a moment, it looked like he would refuse, but then, slowly, silently, he held out his hands. Wei Wuxian looped the white sash around his wrists, tying a bow with the slippery, buttery silk.

“There,” Wei Wuxian said, admiring his handiwork. He felt giddy with power already, eager as always to see what he could get away with.

Lan Wangji rested his bound hands down on his chest, as if awaiting further instruction, prim and proper like a corpse.

“Aren’t you going to fight me?” Wei Wuxian wondered. “Lan Zhan, I gave you a lot of grief when you did this to me.”

“Do you wish for me to fight you?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian sighed. “A little bit! Pin your legs together. Try to kick me off, okay?”

Lan Wangji looked down between them as if attempting to work out the logistics of this. It’s not that Wei Wuxian expected tying him up would have the same effect on Lan Wangji as it did on himself, but this was becoming more comical than sexy.

“Why don’t you put your arms above your head, at least?” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Lan Wangji glanced above him, then raised his arms. They were lying crossways on the bed, so Wei Wuxian, struck with a sudden idea, shuffled them both around in the direction of the headboard. He placed Lan Wangji against the pillows, then looped the excess sash through the wooden slats, tying a second slippery, buttery knot.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” Wei Wuxian said, pleased, sitting back to survey his prey. Luckily, he’d had the foresight to strip the shirt off Lan Wangji—he wore only the loose, soft trousers, his torso bare, creating a beautiful sight. “Have you learned your lesson?” Wei Wuxian asked, putting a devious note in his voice.

“I have,” Lan Wangji answered, like a teacher’s pet, giving all the correct answers.

Wei Wuxian sighed, stifling a laugh. Undaunted, he kicked it up a notch, prowling up the length of Lan Wangji’s body. He braced his own hands on the headboard, their faces inches apart.

“You’re at my mercy now, er-gege. Are you gonna let me do whatever I want to you?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know.

Lan Wangji didn’t reply.

Wei Wuxian slid down a fraction, bringing their bodies in contact. The robe hung open—his own dick, naked, pressed against Lan Wangji’s, still constricted within the soft fabric. He rolled his hips, which felt delicious, observing Lan Wangji’s reaction.

“What if I do you just like this, huh? Gonna stop me?” Wei Wuxian said, extremely determined to provoke him.

Lan Wangji shut his eyes in answer, turning his head away even as his dick hardened substantially beneath Wei Wuxian’s body. Wei Wuxian touched his chin, turning it back, continuing to grind against Lan Wangji through the clothes.

“Hey, none of that,” he chided. “You’re already so hard like this, so just look at me. Is that really too much to ask? Be a good boy and look at me.”

To Wei Wuxian’s endless delight, Lan Wangji gathered himself and opened his eyes, returning his gaze to meet Wei Wuxian’s.

“There. So much better. I love to look at you.” Wei Wuxian caressed Lan Wangji’s face, the fine, clenched jaw, the soft, pale apple of his cheek. He ran a finger over his lips, stroking them to and fro, gently dragging the lower one open. “What if I don’t even blow you? Lan Zhan, could you come like this, if I don’t even take your dick out?”

That got a deeply satisfying reaction. Wei Wuxian shifted so that he pressed more firmly against Lan Wangji, who was straining painfully against the front of the fabric. The material was nearly slick now, warm and damp, clinging to Lan Wangji’s skin. Wei Wuxian ruined it a bit further, continuing to grind against him, until Lan Wangji finally gasped and said, “Take it out.”

Wei Wuxian halted mid-grind, mouth dropping open, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Remove my trousers.” Lan Wangji rephrased his request more politely, his voice thick with strain.

“You really are full of yourself today,” Wei Wuxian said.

He reached down, hooking a finger in the waistband to playfully snap it against Lan Wangji’s skin. Lan Wangji flinched—or more like shuddered. Wei Wuxian hooked his finger again, but this time he drew the waistband down. It snagged on Lan Wangji’s cock, which Wei Wuxian ignored, dragging it down too until it finally sprang free. He tucked the waistband beneath it, placing the lovely item on display.

“Oh, er-gege.” Wei Wuxian hummed in sympathy, as if he’d uncovered a dire emergency. He traced the length of it with his fingertip. “No wonder you said such a dirty thing to me. Does it hurt? Is it painful, like this?”

Lan Wangji shot him a plaintive glare. Wei Wuxian returned a wicked grin.

“What can I do to make it better?” Wei Wuxian asked him sincerely. He toyed with the tip of it, rolling the foreskin forward before easing it back, revealing the pretty, glistening crown. Then he gave the shaft a teasing flick.

Lan Wangji gasped in shock, looking unspeakably bullied. It was so precious that Wei Wuxian absolutely had to bully him further. He leaned in to peck a kiss on Lan Wangji’s bottom lip.

“It’s all right, gege, leave it to me. I know exactly what you need.”

Patting Lan Wangji’s dick fondly, Wei Wuxian climbed off the bed. Lan Wangji, to his credit, didn’t pitch nearly the kind of fit about this that Wei Wuxian would have done. He simply lay there, chest rising and falling, watching with burning interest and perhaps a growing trace of wariness as Wei Wuxian retrieved what he was looking for. Returning to the bed, he placed the bottle of lube within reach and knelt between Lan Wangji’s legs.

“Knees up,” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Lan Wangji didn’t move, his body taut and unwilling. His hands were clenched tight, one fist gripping the headboard.

“What do you think I’m gonna do to you, huh?” Wei Wuxian teased him. “What are you scared of, don’t you trust me?”

Lan Wangji gave him a long, silent look, then reluctantly opened his knees, propping his legs up.

He was being such a good boy. Wei Wuxian patted his knee, then prised them open further.

“Lift up a bit,” he coaxed.

Muscles still taut, Lan Wangji did so. Wei Wuxian ran his palms down the outside of his thighs, then cupped his ass and squeezed. With a sly, flirty wink, he reached down beneath him, and… pulled the trousers off, stripping them down the length of Lan Wangji’s legs.

“There,” he said, satisfied, as he flung them off the bed. He knee-walked back up, pushing Lan Wangji’s legs back down to sit astride him again. Tapping his own dick affectionately against Lan Wangji’s naked dick, he took them both in hand, one large, one simply normal, human size. “Now, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

Lan Wangji’s chest, already flushed, turned a deeper shade of red—whether at those words or at the hand on his cock, who could say. Wei Wuxian stroked them both thoughtfully, relishing the feel of Lan Wangji hot and bare against him. His hand wouldn’t even fit all the way around them both at once, but he made the best of it he could, watching the subtle play of expressions across Lan Wangji’s face.

When Lan Wangji’s breaths had grown ragged, nearly matching his own, Wei Wuxian reached for the lube. He uncapped it one-handed, applying a reasonable, sane amount, holding up the bottle to show Lan Wangji how it remained nearly full.

Lan Wangji gave him an arch, scathing glare, but then tipped his head back, thudding it audibly against the headboard as Wei Wuxian’s hand began to move. Wei Wuxian had to agree. What was already so good grew unthinkingly better. Their dicks slid together without friction in Wei Wuxian’s palm. He sped up his strokes, not holding back, letting the slick sounds fill the room.

“Close?” Wei Wuxian asked him, attempting not to pant and moan.

He watched as Lan Wangji rallied a heroic amount of willpower. Clutching the headboard, he drew deep breaths in and out as if attempting to enter a state of meditation. “I am not,” he said stubbornly, possibly making the words true by sheer force alone.

Wei Wuxian’s wide grin split his face. Oh, Lan Wangji was too perfect. Wei Wuxian was going to break him. He sat back abruptly, letting them go. The open length of the robe pooled on either side of their bodies. It had slipped off his shoulder, and without further ado, Wei Wuxian shed it entirely, dropping it off the side of the bed.

“Don’t want to mess it up,” he explained as Lan Wangji’s gaze landed back on him hotly. He uncapped the lube again, once more demonstrating how to apply a reasonable, sane amount to the tips of his fingers.

“See? This much, not the whole bottle,” Wei Wuxian instructed, showing Lan Wangji his fingers. “I like to feel you, when it hurts a little.”

Lan Wangji only barely suppressed the sound in his throat. Patting his cheek consolingly with his clean hand, Wei Wuxian rose up on his knees, bracing his hand on the headboard.

“Watch me, I’ll show you,” he invited.

Reaching behind himself, he worked out the angle, circling his rim with two slick fingers. His body shuddered at the feel of it, still a bit swollen and sensitive from the events of last night. Carefully, he pressed one finger to the shy, tender entrance, rubbing it until it opened just enough to swallow the tip.

“Ahhhhh,” he sighed blissfully, at that first little intrusion. Just one finger was nothing compared to what he had recently taken, so in no time at all it was all the way in. He probably didn’t even need to do this, he considered—Lan Wangji could spread his legs and take him any time he wanted, his body ready, still flushed and open. Just the thought made him push the second finger in, gasping at the stretch of it, yet still not nearly enough to fill him the way he wanted.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you watching?” he asked, checking in with Lan Wangji.

The fierce heat of Lan Wangji’s gaze made his skin combust a little. “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian’s body responded, his cock throbbing like a second heartbeat. He went down on his hands and knees—well, one hand and knees—continuing to finger himself open. Gasping at the change of angle, he rubbed his prostate and moaned. He could probably come just like this, so turned on he’d spill all over himself before he even got to the good part. Hastily, he withdrew, returning his attention momentarily back to the rim. He added a third finger, spreading them wide, using his hips to rock back on them.

“Can’t go—nggghh—as deep as you go,” Wei Wuxian noted, breath coming in short little gasps. He felt flushed all over, damp with sweat, as if the room was several degrees hotter than his skin. He made another sound as he curled his fingers—not even sexily, not intentionally putting on a show. He was simply chasing what felt good, pleasuring himself the way he might if he was alone, except for the fact of holding Lan Wangji’s searing gaze.

Lan Wangji, hands still bound, was breathing heavily. The sight of it was definitely not helping Wei Wuxian’s self-control—he squirmed and groaned again, pumping his fingers, heat flaring down his thighs.

“Is this—ha ha—Lan Zhan—is this difficult for you, gege? Think how it is for me,” Wei Wuxian bemoaned.

Lan Wangji, unbearably tortured, begged hoarsely, “Do not talk.”

“Why not?” Wei Wuxian said. His limbs were beginning to tremble. He nosed at the side of Lan Wangji’s pained face. “You said it yourself, you wanted me to talk to you every day. So why can’t I talk to you now? Do I have to use actions instead of words?”

Lan Wangji shut his eyes, clinging to what appeared to be the last thread of his willpower. Wei Wuxian, close to the last thread himself, withdrew his slick fingers. He recoated Lan Wangji’s cock with them, then positioned himself, placing the blunt head at his entrance.

“Is this what Lan-er-gege wants?” he asked, and sank down.

Lan Wangji gasped. Wei Wuxian moaned. The stretch and burn of it punched the air out of his lungs—he had to raise up again for just a second, even though he was the one fully in charge of the rate and trajectory of penetration. Fumbling a little, he guided the thick cock back in, keeping it there with his fingers as he eased back down on it, taking at least the first inch inside him.

“Ha ha haaa, gimme a second,” he announced breathlessly, and laughed just as breathlessly at the look on Lan Wangji’s face. It gave him the incentive to continue. Filling his lungs, he rocked his hips up and down, acclimating it to his body the way Lan Wangji might have done. But it would take him all day at this rate—impatient, he shoved his weight down more aggressively, then had to stop and pant, sweating.

“Almost there,” he reported.

“Wei Ying…”

Lan Wangji was practically trembling beneath him. Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, relaxing the entire lower half of his body, then finally, fucking finally, bottomed out in one swift motion. It was so very different at this angle—deep, so fucking deep that tears sprang to his eyes as he gasped open-mouthed.

“Lan Zhan,” he begged.

It was as if Lan Wangji finally realized that his arms were tied with nothing but an insubstantial strip of silk. He tore it free from the headboard, and with his teeth, freed his wrists just as swiftly. In one motion he sat up, catching Wei Wuxian with one arm, one hand cupping his face.

“Dick,” Wei Wuxian panted. “Touch my dick.”

Lan Wangji’s warm, firm fingers wrapped instantly around him. Wei Wuxian cried out in relief as Lan Wangji stroked him up and down, giving him what he needed. The touch grounded him, arousing him, and after a moment, he had recovered enough to begin rocking his hips in tiny circles, in time with Lan Wangji’s strokes.

“Isn’t this—aaah, fuck—isn’t this so good?” Wei Wuxian gasped, amazed. “Aren’t I so good and tight like this?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji pleaded.

Wei Wuxian leaned back a little, one hand clutching Lan Wangji’s shoulder, bracing his other hand on Lan Wangji’s thigh. Fully on board now, he spread his legs, treating Lan Wangji to the view. He had to learn how to balance his weight, but the angle changed everything once again. He shuddered, aching at each slide as he worked his hips up and down. He treated Lan Wangji to that view too, overwhelmed and exultant at this thing his body could do.

“Lan Zhan, how come we never—did it this way before?” he marveled, recovering a bit more of his power of speech. “How come I didn’t ride you like this—ahh! slow down—the second I saw you?? Ah, fuck—fuck fuck fuck—”

Lan Wangji had made a discovery of his own: how to thrust from this position. His hips slammed upwards, nearly throwing Wei Wuxian off his lap. Wei Wuxian bucked back down, clambering for a better grip.

“Er-gege, behave!” he admonished.

“You have not done so,” Lan Wangji replied grimly.

“I have, I have! I’ve been on my best behavior.” Wei Wuxian groaned at full volume as Lan Wangji’s thrusts increased in fervor. He flailed a bit, trying to regain his balance. “Er-gege! What makes you think I—nggghhh—I haven’t been good?! Aren’t you the one who started this?” These words seemed to incite Lan Wangji even more, so Wei Wuxian tried to catch his breath, in order to continue. “Just because—I said all that—about cute little Lan babies—didn’t mean—you could knock—me up right now!”

A glint in Lan Wangji’s eye was the only warning he got. Wei Wuxian squawked as Lan Wangji rose up on his knees, dumping him off his lap. What happened next was swift, brutal, efficient. Wei Wuxian was tossed, breathlessly laughing, face down on the bed. He put up a half-hearted attempt of trying to fight Lan Wangji off, but Lan Wangji caught his arms, crossing them behind his back.

“Ow ow owww!” Wei Wuxian yelped, wriggling happily as Lan Wangji bound his wrists with the silk. He tugged at the knot, which didn’t pull loose, somehow much more secure than the one he had tied—of course it was. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhaaaan,” he said, “just because I said a few harmless words?! Are you really this unreasonable?”

As if in answer, Lan Wangji hauled him back upright. He pressed against Wei Wuxian from behind. Directly into his ear, he asked, “Are you going to behave now?”

“No, why should I?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning. Then he gasped out loud with glee as Lan Wangji positioned his cock and seated Wei Wuxian back down on it with one swift, efficient motion.

Wei Wuxian braced himself for the vicious onslaught that never came. Instead, Lan Wangji pressed a kiss to Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He reached around him, trailing a hand down his chest, over his belly, wrapping his fingers back around his aching cock. Wei Wuxian whined and pitched forward, nearly falling over, the balance of his weight all wrong with his hands tied behind him.

Lan Wangji caught him before he could topple. He locked his other arm around Wei Wuxian’s chest, holding him firmly upright. Wei Wuxian had no choice but to melt back against him, let Lan Wangji take all of his weight, bound hands trapped between their bodies. There was nothing he could do, not even balance himself in this position.

“You may come whenever you like,” Lan Wangji informed him, beginning to stroke him up and down.

Wei Wuxian groaned in agony, realizing too late what Lan Wangji was going to do. He tried to pull his hands free, but it just completed that same circuit of overstimulation in his body, the silk biting into his wrists. He clenched down, his cock throbbing. Lan Wangji squeezed it, then gently resumed his steady pace.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian gasped. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replied, dropping another tender kiss on his shoulder. Just as gently, he began to toy with Wei Wuxian’s nipple. Not even pinching him, just circling and rubbing the sensitive skin with his fingers, making Wei Wuxian feel it.

It was cruel. It was unthinkable. Wei Wuxian could only whine and plead for mercy, making his thoughts on this treatment known. The more fuss he made, the more he protested, the more Lan Wangji handled him kindly and tenderly. Wei Wuxian did everything he could think of, arching up, squirming, resisting, begging, using his mouth to full effect, but that only made it ten times worse, aware of every inch inside him, Lan Wangji firm and unmoving.

“Lan Zhan,” he pleaded, hoarse, collapsing back against Lan Wangji’s chest. He tried to roll his hips, exhausted. “I can’t come like this.”

“You can,” Lan Wangji said with utmost confidence.

Wei Wuxian bit back a sob. It was like last night, only more so—his body forced to take it. He fucking loved it. He fucking loved Lan Wangji so much.

“A little faster,” he whispered, desperate, when he couldn’t stand it any longer.

Lan Wangji sped up his hand, twisting his wrist the way he knew by now Wei Wuxian needed. He dropped more heated kisses along Wei Wuxian’s neck, scraping his teeth gently but not biting, humming with approval as Wei Wuxian’s breaths grew harsher, more ragged.

“You are close,” Lan Wangji said, and something about the voice and the words and the mouth on his neck—and the fingers on his nipples and the hand on his cock—

Wei Wuxian felt it cresting, the orgasm that was going to be forced out of his body. He fought it simply out of pleasure, crying out with joy as the wave finally broke. It happened from one heartbeat to the next—his body buckled, and then come was dripping over Lan Wangji’s fingers. Lan Wangji kept stroking him, holding him upright, murmuring his name with little sounds of encouragement. Wei Wuxian whimpered as every drop was wrung out of his body. Finally, he slumped back against Lan Wangji, a little laugh joining the sob in the back of his throat.

“Stop,” Wei Wuxian whispered hoarsely. “Done. I’m so done.”

Gently, Lan Wangji’s hand stilled. There was a moment of silence, both of them breathing heavily, loudly together. Even Wei Wuxian’s fingertips tingled, little shivers of pleasure chasing back and forth across his skin. He could feel it, as he slowly began to return to his body, how close Lan Wangji must be, how much restraint it was taking to hold him like this.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, shutting his eyes, rubbing his cheek back against Lan Wangji’s. “Do me like this. Come inside me.”

“Like this?” Lan Wangji affirmed, voice low and rough too.

Wei Wuxian nodded. Then shook his head, changing his mind. “Want to see you,” he said.

Lan Wangji took care this time, easing out of his body. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help a little moan at the loss, but Lan Wangji balanced him up on wobbly knees and turned him around, all awkward angles and limbs as he pulled Wei Wuxian back into his lap. Face to face, chest to chest, Wei Wuxian dove for his mouth, clumsily missing his lips but then finding them, locking their mouths together. Lan Wangji cradled his face, brushing sweaty hair off his brow as they exchanged long, hungry kisses, their breath and tongues tangling together.

“Untie me,” Wei Wuxian asked, when he tugged at his hands but they didn’t come free.

Lan Wangji pulled the end of the sash. The silk unwound, falling off him. Wei Wuxian rubbed his sore wrists, then crossed them behind Lan Wangji’s neck, dragging him into his arms. They exchanged another long, biting kiss, and then Wei Wuxian bumped his nose against Lan Wangji’s cheek.

“Forgot something else,” he reminded, nudging at the cock that was pressed indecently up against him, but not yet back inside him.

A tiny smile touched the corners of Lan Wangji’s mouth. “Mn,” he agreed. He began to reach for the lube, then thought better of it, swiping his fingers through the mess on Wei Wuxian’s stomach instead.

“Oh fuck, okay,” Wei Wuxian croaked, a soft laugh shocked out of him as Lan Wangji reached around and slicked him with his own come. It felt—still fucking weird actually, a little gross and hot as hell as Lan Wangji pushed the come inside him. “How do you have a reputation for being this stuck up, repressed prude??” Wei Wuxian marveled.

Looking smug, still barely smiling—it was such a good look on him—Lan Wangji wiped up the rest of the come off Wei Wuxian’s stomach and slicked his own cock with it.

“Enough?” he checked.

Wei Wuxian nodded.

“More lubrication is not necessary?” Lan Wangji confirmed.

Wei Wuxian nipped at Lan Wangji’s jaw. “No, I need the whole bottle,” he shot back sarcastically. “Shut up and stick it in me.”

With one hand, Lan Wangji guided his cock back inside him, other hand on his hip easing him down.

Wei Wuxian sighed, hissing a little, then completed the sigh as Lan Wangji slid all the way in. His body was relaxed, open for it even more than it had been before, the effects of the orgasm still lingering. He was only human—he’d been through enough in the past 48 hours that he was beginning to feel the effects. But he felt lax with it, open, yielding. He’d deal with the soreness later, when Lan Wangji would coddle him and kiss him and smooth healing salves into his skin.

“Is that deep enough?” Lan Wangji asked him now, kissing him respectfully on the lips.

Wei Wuxian slammed his hips down to make a point. “Is that deep enough?” he retorted.

Lan Wangji shook with silent laughter. He hitched Wei Wuxian’s knees up around his waist, helping him cling like a limpet.

They fucked just like that, a little rough, a little clumsy, their bodies meeting in a wet, smacking rhythm that filled the room. Even Lan Wangji seemed content with it, satisfied to take him just like this. They were close enough to kiss, to stroke and cling to each other’s bodies. It felt like Lan Wangji had crawled inside his chest too, cracking it open from within. They traded reckless, happy kisses, every press of their bodies, every grind and drag of their hips, edging them closer and closer to the inevitable peak.

Wei Wuxian laughed that time, breathless laughter as he felt his body come. Given how much he’d spent before, it was a reasonable, sane amount: a single milky streak painting his and Lan Wangji’s bellies, pressing and smearing together.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, nothing else but that— “Wei Ying, Wei Ying—” and followed him over the edge, shuddering as he spilled inside Wei Wuxian’s body.

Wei Wuxian laughed out loud again, awed at that too. His thighs were shaking, all of his limbs limp and wobbly as a ragdoll. He clung best as he could as Lan Wangji cradled him, tipping him backwards onto the bed. Wei Wuxian spread his legs as Lan Wangji thrust inside a bit more, seemingly aftershocks more than anything else, then Lan Wangji groaned, fully spent, and collapsed gracefully atop him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian finally breathed, when his lungs and mouth could work again. He wriggled his toes, his limbs still tingling in utter boneless satisfaction.

Lan Wangji shifted against him, but couldn’t yet manage to move his weight. He emitted a soft, tiny grunt.

Wei Wuxian laughed, stroking Lan Wangji’s back. “You made a mess again, gege,” he whispered in Lan Wangji’s ear.

Not even a grunt in response that time.

Wei Wuxian reached down between his legs, where Lan Wangji was still inside him. He smeared the wet mess leaking out of him all over his fingers, then pulled back enough to smear his fingers all over Lan Wangji’s chest.

“Do not tease,” Lan Wangji warned him, voice ragged, throat utterly shot.

“But facts beat eloquence, I’m just showing you,” Wei Wuxian said. He dropped a row of tender kisses across Lan Wangji’s sweaty brow, then hugged him again, squeezing his shoulders. “You were so good for me, gege. Just, next time… be a little louder…”

Lan Wangji rocked his hips as a threat, still inside him, softening a bit, but not all the way.

“Lan Zhan, don’t tell me you can go another round,” Wei Wuxian said. He gave Lan Wangji’s hair a light tug.

“I cannot,” Lan Wangji admitted. “…Five minutes,” he guessed.

“Five minutes?!” Wei Wuxian cackled. “Lan Zhan, that’s practically now!”

In retaliation, Lan Wangji gave him another hard little thrust, still only partly soft inside him.

“Whatever are we going to do with five whole minutes?” Wei Wuxian wondered. He trailed his finger teasingly down Lan Wangji’s spine, giving his ass cheek a little pinch.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, his voice still rasping.

“You’re gonna break me,” Wei Wuxian mused, “if five minutes between fucking is all I get. Lan Zhan, how about twenty minutes?” he bargained.

“…No,” Lan Wangji decided resolutely.

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Ten. What about ten minutes?”

Lan Wangji carefully propped up on his elbows to meet his gaze. “Wei Ying, you should know this about me,” he said in grave parody of Wei Wuxian’s ‘confessions’ an hour before.

Wei Wuxian threw his head back and laughed, his chest shaking, pressed against Lan Wangji’s chest. He kissed Lan Wangji on the mouth, chucking him beneath his chin. “Who taught you to tease like this, huh? You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. He bit Wei Wuxian’s lower lip with grim satisfaction.

“All right,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “But just so you know, what happened to every day, huh? I did say every day,” he pointed out, “not every five minutes.”

With the pedantry that probably made him the bane of his teachers’ and students’ existence, Lan Wangji replied, “Every day does not mean once per day.”

“And when I said everything,” Wei Wuxian continued. “I didn’t really mean…”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji interrupted him, insolent this morning. “You have said it.”

“Stop using my words against me!” Wei Wuxian wailed, arching his neck so Lan Wangji could nuzzle it, placing another loving bite.

Just as he promised, Lan Wangji’s erection was returning. He began to rock gently into Wei Wuxian’s body.

Wei Wuxian groaned and gave in. “Fine, fine, fine. You win!” He flung his arms out, splaying his legs open wide, eyes shining, his lips still brimming with laughter. “I’m all yours, do your worst. But are you at least keeping track of all these things you have to do every day?” He counted off on his fingers. “Wash my hair. Massage my back when I get sore…”

Lan Wangji placed a kiss on his lips. “Talk to you, be with you, and sleep with you every day,” he recited again, like a vow.

“Every five minutes apparently,” Wei Wuxian moaned. “And breakfast. Don’t forget breakfast, you have to make breakfast every day now too. You’ve got a lot to do, Lan Zhan.”

“That is all right,” Lan Wangji said.

“Have you written all this down?”

“Mn, I will remember.”

“Good. Don’t make excuses.”

“I will not,” Lan Wangji said, making Wei Wuxian laugh and kiss him on the mouth. Lan Wangji returned the kiss, then stubbornly declared, “Every day is every day.”

Chapter Text

Monday, 18:50 — group chat

Wen Qing: Wei Wuxian?

Monday, 19:12 — group chat

Wen Qing: ?????

Monday, 20:36 — group chat

Wen Qing: Okay, fine.

Monday, 21:01 — group chat

Wen Qing: I’m guessing you’re with Lan Wangji and it went well. Text me if you’re dead in a gutter instead.

Tuesday, 11:13 — group chat

Wei Wuxian: [13 images attached]

Wen Qing: What the fuck

Wei Wuxian: jiejie i need your medical opinion

Wen Qing: On what, a fucking bathtub?

Wei Wuxian: that’s lan zhan’s!!!!!! i’m in it right now. there’s bubbles
Wei Wuxian: [1 image attached — selfie]

Wen Qing: I repeat, you need my medical opinion on a bathtub?

Wei Wuxian: u never click through
Wei Wuxian: [12 images attached]

Wen Qing: What the fuck.
Wen Qing: Why am I looking at 12 blurry pictures of hickies?
Wen Qing: Wait, nevermind. Don’t answer that.

Wei Wuxian: there are more but only in places lan zhan is allowed to see

Wen Qing: Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian: 😁😁😁😁😁

Wen Qing: 😑
Wen Qing: Well… at least I take it you’re no longer a baby virgin.

Wei Wuxian: I Am Not.
Wei Wuxian: We’re married now
Wei Wuxian: Well, basically
Wei Wuxian: You’re all invited to the wedding
Wei Wuxian: Lan zhan says we haven’t finalized the date so it’s irresponsible for me to issue invitations
Wei Wuxian: But you’re invited
Wei Wuxian: Tell a-yuan lan Zhan is going to be his new dad

Wen Qing: *sigh*
Wen Qing: By the way
Wen Qing: Popo says don’t you dare be late for work today. You’re running the shop alone this afternoon.

Wei Wuxian: that phrasing sounds more like u actually
Wei Wuxian: But I won’t be late!! i’m almost ready now
Wei Wuxian: Lan Zhan is washing my hair
Wei Wuxian: [1 video attached]

Wen Qing: I am not clicking that.

Wei Wuxian: He is Very Good with His Hands
Wei Wuxian: In a hair washing way
Wei Wuxian: 😉😉

Wen Qing: Goodbye. 👋

Wei Wuxian: Hey qing jie wait, you never answered me
Wei Wuxian: what’s your medical prognosis?
Wei Wuxian: jiejie?
Wei Wuxian: jiejieeeeeeee are they mortal wounds???

Tuesday, 11:28 — group chat

Wei Wuxian: also how do u know if u are pregnant
Wei Wuxian: Asking for a friend

Tuesday, 11:32 — group chat

[Wen Qing added Mianmian to the chat]

Mianmian: Wei Wuxian?

Wei Wuxian: MIANMIAN

Mianmian: Qingqing has requested I inform you that you are an insufferable pain in her ass, but she is nonetheless happy for you, but she will nonetheless never speak to you again

Wei Wuxian: hahahahaha
Wei Wuxian: over one pic of a bathtub???!

Wei Wuxian: Mianmian did you see the bathtub??

Wen Ning: What did I miss?

Wen Qing: A-Ning, don’t scroll up.

Wen Ning: ???

Wei Wuxian: [1 image attached — bunnies]

Wen Ning: 😃🐰

Tuesday, 12:05 — group chat

[Wei Wuxian added Lan Wangji to the chat]

Wei Wuxian: Everybody, officially welcome Lan Zhan to the chat
Wei Wuxian: Rules: 1- be nice to him, 2- no one hits on him but me

Wen Qing: Lan Wangji, welcome. Allow me to offer my sincerest condolences

Wei Wuxian: You misspelled congratulations

Lan Wangji: Thank you.

Wei Wuxian: ilysm

Wen Qing: Nope, not here. Wei Wuxian, this is a PDA-free zone.

Wen Ning: What is ilysm?

Wei Wuxian: that applies to u and misnmian too
Wei Wuxian: *misnmian
Wei Wuxian: dammit
Wei Wuxian: *mianmian

Wen Qing: Not a problem.
Wen Qing: We know how to conduct ourselves in public.

Wei Wuxian: so do i!!!
Wei Wuxian: [1 video attached]
Wei Wuxian: Do not click!!!!’’’
Wei Wuxian: [1 video attachment deleted]
Wei Wuxian: That was by accident!!!!!!

Mianmian: Qing-jie has left the chat

Lan Wangji: I apologize, I did not realize Wei Ying was recording.

Wei Wuxian: I deleted it bb
Wei Wuxian: We will not traumatize wen ning’s innocent eyes

Wen Ning: What was the video?

Wei Wuxian: [1 image attached — bunnies]

Wen Ning: 😃🐰

Tuesday, 13:53 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: Hey babe
Wei Wuxian: Actually, we haven’t discussed if I can call you that, some ppl don’t like it
Wei Wuxian: Hey sweet cheeks
Wei Wuxian: Let me know when there’s one you like
Wei Wuxian: Hey bun buns
Wei Wuxian: Hey sugar tits

Lan Wangji: Wei Ying

Wei Wuxian: 😁😁😁
Wei Wuxian: u didn’t use punctuation!!
Wei Wuxian: u are smiling so hard rn
Wei Wuxian: But hey, popo made a big batch of tofu pudding
Wei Wuxian: The one you had last time
Wei Wuxian: I think you actually liked it
Wei Wuxian: You said, and I quote: “it is unexpectedly pleasant”
Wei Wuxian: Want me to bring some home???

Lan Wangji: Yes. Please do.
Lan Wangji: That would be…

Wei Wuxian: Don’t do it

Lan Wangji: unexpectedly pleasant.

Wei Wuxian: Hahahaha
Wei Wuxian: ilysfm

Lan Wangji: “sfm” ?

Wei Wuxian: So Fucking Much

Lan Wangji: The feeling is mutual.

Wei Wuxian: 🔪🔪🔪 ❤️❤️❤️
Wei Wuxian: That is my heart being stabbed with feelings
Wei Wuxian: 🥰🥰🥰

Tuesday, 15:03 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: Aaaaaaahhhh lan zhsn
Wei Wuxian: 🚨🚨🚨🚨
Wei Wuxian: There’s a spider in the stock room
Wei Wuxian: come save me!!

Lan Wangji: You will be fine. Trap the spider under a cup.

Wei Wuxian: Should there be wine in the cup?
Wei Wuxian: Tea?? be specific
Wei Wuxian: u should probably just come save me

Lan Wangji: I am with a student.

Wei Wuxian: 🥺
Wei Wuxian: k i’ll just die of spider bite then

Lan Wangji: It is not a dog. You will be fine.

Wei Wuxian: Brutal lan zhan !! U roasted me
Wei Wuxian: sigh I’m putting my clothes back on
Wei Wuxian: my plot to seduce you failed
Wei Wuxian: Your loss

Tuesday, 16:30 — Lan Wangji > Wei Wuxian

Lan Wangji: My schedule is now clear. Has the spider survived?

Wei Wuxian: tragically, yes
Wei Wuxian: we’re best friends now
Wei Wuxian: she has taken over the stock room
Wei Wuxian: unrelated: would spiders be a good pet for a-yuan??

Lan Wangji: They would not.

Wei Wuxian: btw, speaking of
Wei Wuxian: he’s here hanging out with me now, he will NOT shut up about the rabbits
Wei Wuxian: this is gonna be a real reap what you sow situation
Wei Wuxian: [1 image attached — A-Yuan]
Wei Wuxian: he says hi!!!

Lan Wangji: Please tell him I say hello.
Lan Wangji: He may come see the rabbits soon.

Wei Wuxian: tmrw?

Lan Wangji: If that means tomorrow instead of an acronym I’m unfamiliar with, then yes.

Wei Wuxian: you’re a bitch and a nerd, I love you
Wei Wuxian: yes it means tomorrow and yes tomorrow will be perfect
Wei Wuxian: he almost fell off the chair
Wei Wuxian: when I told him
Wei Wuxian: he tried to jump up and down

Lan Wangji: Please do not let him fall off chairs or any other elevated surfaces.
Lan Wangji: The rabbits would be sad.

Wei Wuxian: Pretty sure he can still cuddle them in a full body cast
Wei Wuxian: but don’t worry
Wei Wuxian: you know I will protect him with my life

Lan Wangji: I know.

Wei Wuxian: what have I told you about saying nice things?!
Wei Wuxian: 😭
Wei Wuxian: you can only do that in person and in the nude.

Lan Wangji: Noted.

Wei Wuxian: also pretty sure
Wei Wuxian: you shouldn’t sext me in front of a toddler

Lan Wangji: Sexting would be inconvenient for me too. My uncle is expecting me shortly.

Wei Wuxian: Yep the buzz is killed
Wei Wuxian: but you typed sexting
Wei Wuxian: MY LIFE IS COMPLETE

Wei Wuxian: hey Lan Zhan
Wei Wuxian: are you still there?

Lan Wangji: Yes.
Lan Wangji: I was just collecting my things.

Wei Wuxian: i think your uncle is already haunting me
Wei Wuxian: I just stubbed my toe
Wei Wuxian: he knows I harbor ill intentions towards his nephew
Wei Wuxian: ill intentions = unchaste thoughts
Wei Wuxian: wicked desires
Wei Wuxian: evil notions of matrimony

Lan Wangji: 🙂

Wei Wuxian: oh fuck it’s serious
Wei Wuxian: you used an EMOJI
Wei Wuxian: stop before he starts haunting you too!!!!!
Wei Wuxian: and haunting me extra for corrupting you!!!!!!!
Wei Wuxian: 😱😱😱😱

Lan Wangji: I would not put it past him.
Lan Wangji: All right, I must go now.
Lan Wangji: See you soon, Wei Ying.

Wei Wuxian: i will pine for u and miss u
Wei Wuxian: be safe, be good

Lan Wangji: ❤️

Wei Wuxian: LAN ZHAAN STOPP

Tuesday, 17:38 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: Hey sweet cheeks

Tuesday, 17:55 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: Hey hot stuff

Tuesday, 18:09 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: Hey sugar tits

Tuesday, 18:22 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: What are you wearing?

Tuesday, 18:25 — group chat

Wei Wuxian: [1 screenshot attached — unanswered texts]
Wei Wuxian: chat, what does it mean if ur boyfriend leaves you on read
Wei Wuxian: ????
Wei Wuxian: 🥺🥺🥺
Wei Wuxian: are we getting divorced?

[Wen Qing has muted notifications]

Wei Wuxian: rude!
Wei Wuxian: Mianmian?
Wei Wuxian: Wen Ning???

Lan Wangji: Wei Ying, I am at my uncle’s.

Wei Wuxian: Lan Zhan!!!!!
Wei Wuxian: chat, it’s ok, i found him
Wei Wuxian: crisis averted

Wen Ning: What did I miss?

Tuesday, 18:26 — Lan Wangji > Wei Wuxian

Lan Wangji: Wei Ying, I am at my uncle’s.

Wei Wuxian: hahahaha I know
Wei Wuxian: sry, worth it
Wei Wuxian: i decided i’m ok with being haunted
Wei Wuxian: 👻
Wei Wuxian: say hi to shufu for me

Tuesday, 19:10 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: do not reply, it’s still shufu time
Wei Wuxian: but I miss you 🫶

Tuesday, 19:30 — Lan Wangji > Wei Wuxian

Lan Wangji: I am departing my uncle’s.
Lan Wangji: [GPS location attached, ETA: 20:10]
Lan Wangji: I miss you as well.
Lan Wangji: See you at home?

Tuesday, 19:52 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: did you get my pics?? Are you still on the train??

Lan Wangji: I am still on the train. I did not receive any images.

Tuesday, 20:08 — Wei Wuxian > Lan Wangji

Wei Wuxian: trying again

Lan Wangji: It appears they are coming through.

Wei Wuxian: [25 images attached]
Wei Wuxian: [25 images attached]
Wei Wuxian: oops hahaha they went through twice

Lan Wangji: …
Lan Wangji: …
Lan Wangji: …

Wei Wuxian: I can see you typing u know
Wei Wuxian: I can see the dots

Lan Wangji: I am nearly home.

Wei Wuxian: 🍆🍆💦🍑😃😍😍
Wei Wuxian: 💋💋💋💋
Wei Wuxian: Me too