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Meditation had never been a field where Wei Wuxian had excelled.
Oh, he managed to balance his mind, of course, knew how to focus his thoughts when cultivating; that, he could manage perfectly well. But meditation, sitting down and clearing the mind not for a concrete purpose but just as practice, as a way to reach serenity and peace…
It hadn’t been a very important discipline in Lotus Pier. They’d always been more physical, more action-focused. But here, at Cloud Recesses, meditation was first and foremost.
He shifted, irritated, mind drifting again. It was the quiet of this place, paradoxically distracting to him. He was used to hearing constant voices, children playing, the older kids reciting their lessons, the clangs of sword practice, laughter and yells… But Lan Wangji valued quiet, and so all sound in these rooms was the occasional bird brave enough to venture close, and the whistling of the wind.
Wei Wuxian frowned, trying to concentrate. He’d thought this would've been easier without Lan Wangji’s constant supervising presence, but instead Lan Wangji’s absence made him feel directionless, like a sky lantern without tether.
It would be easy to stop trying and just drop this attempt. If he’d had any talent for this, he’d have shown it ages ago. What was the point in practicing something he was never going to get good at? He’d never managed the complete control of mind necessary for this thing – at least, apart from –
No. He was not going to think about that.
He closed his eyes again, trying to let his mind go empty like Lan Wangji had told him to – then looked up sharply as he heard footsteps outside. Not the familiar ones.
He got up and reached for his flute, tense and nervous. What would be best, to hide somewhere? Slip out of the back door and disappear into the forest?
There was a knock, and he held his breath, flattening himself against the wall, ready to –
“Hello?”
Oh. Yes, of course.
“Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Wuxian called out, relaxing.
The door slid open and Lan Xichen stepped in, gracing him with a smile. “Young Lord Wei.”
Wei Wuxian bowed, respectfully, still a little giddy with relief. He didn’t know why he’d panicked like that; it wasn’t the first time Lan Xichen had visited their rooms, and there had been no indication that there was anything wrong, or that there was a threat...
And yet, for a moment there he'd felt genuinely terrified.
Lan Xichen waved him up, then looked around the room. “Wangji isn’t here?”
“He went out earlier,” Wei Wuxian said. “I thought he was visiting you, actually.”
“Then we must have crossed each other. Never mind, I’ll look for him later.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, waiting a little impatiently for Lan Xichen to leave again. But instead he turned to Wei Wuxian and gave him a rather piercing look.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Well, thank you.” Wei Wuxian shifted onto his other foot. It felt a little odd to be alone with Lan Xichen, without Lan Wangji around to act as a buffer.
“Glad to hear it,” Lan Xichen said, sounding genuinely happy about it, and Wei Wuxian felt a stab of guilt.
“I…I haven’t thanked you properly yet, for allowing me to stay here,” he said. “I’m aware it’s a risk, for your Sect.”
“I believe it would have been even more of a risk to not to let you stay here, actually,” Lan Xichen said. “But even without that, you would have been welcome here.”
“You’re very generous.” Wei Wuxian pulled an apologetic face. “I didn’t exactly endear myself to the Lan Sect, in my first visit here. I thought you’d all be glad to see the back of me.”
“You were a breath of fresh air,” Lan Xichen said, with a faint smile. “And one some of us could use, I think.”
“Lan Zhan?”
Lan Xichen inclined his head. “I did him good, to meet the head disciples from the different Sects. Ours are all so used to being in awe of Wangji, they daren’t even approach him. Whereas you…”
Wei Wuxian smiled, a little sheepishly. “I doubt he liked me approaching him, to be honest.”
“Perhaps not at first, but it did have its benefits,” Lan Xichen said, with a rueful smile. “He'd never known anything but being the best, undefeated. It wasn’t bad for him to realise there were other people who could match him, who weren’t intimidated by him.”
“But… surely he must have had some friends in the Sect?” Wei Wuxian asked, puzzled. “From earlier, maybe, when he was younger?”
“Not really, no.” Lan Xichen sighed, a little sadly. “Wangji… He has been a great support to me, even when he was still very young. He has a great sense of responsibility, much like you do.”
Wei Wuxian blinked, surprised.
“But sometimes I think he’s forgotten how to connect to people. He bears his responsibilities all alone, refusing to burden others with it. And he isn’t a very social person in the best of circumstances. But you, someone who is on equal ground with him in so many ways, who has the same set of principles – ”
“The same set of principles?” Wei Wuxian spluttered. “Sect Leader, surely that’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Lan Xichen asked, raising his eyebrows.
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, a little at loss. As he had been before, with Lan Xichen.
He did like the man. A lot. Lan Xichen reminded him a little of Uncle Jiang, that rare type of person who combined experience and wisdom with kindness and patience. He had a lot of other good qualities too, most of which he had in common with Lan Wangji – and even apart from that, Lan Wangji clearly looked up to his brother; that alone made Wei Wuxian predisposed to like him.
But there was someone about the way Lan Xichen treated him, which was so wholly different from the way any other member of the great families regarded him, that it always made Wei Wuxian feel almost shy. As if he wasn’t living up to some standard Lan Xichen was holding him to, as if he should be trying to do better – even though Lan Xichen had never actually given any indication that he thought any ill of Wei Wuxian.
“If circumstances had been different, perhaps…” Lan Xichen shook his head. “But as it is, I’m still glad you’ve found each other. He cares about you a great deal.”
Wei Wuxian lowered his eyes.
“Young Lord Wei.”
He glanced up.
“I’ve entrusted my brother to you,” Lan Xichen said, and now his faint smile had disappeared. “Despite evidence to the contrary, and others’ opinions, I do believe your intentions are pure, that what happened is a consequence of ill luck, rather than malice.”
“But?” Wei Wuxian asked, cautiously.
Lan Xichen shook his head, gravely. “But I hope I didn’t make a mistake. Is he helping you? Or are you dragging him down?”
Wei Wuxian stared at him, his stomach turning. He felt a strong urge to explain, to justify himself, anything to make Lan Xichen stop thinking that he was somehow corrupting Lan Wangji out of nothing but malevolencen but -
But that would be a very bad idea.
“Lan Zhan has been a good teacher,” he said, instead. “I’m doing my best to do the work he gives me as well as I can.”
Lan Xichen nodded, looking a little disappointed. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I… I try,” he said, a little desperately.
“And that’s all we can ask,” Lan Xichen said, smiling again, albeit sadly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Wei Wuxian bowed, a little more deeply than was strictly necessary. Lan Xichen gave him a nod and another of those strange, melancholy smiles, and went to the door.
Wei Wuxian glanced at him, then drifted over to the table, where his latest attempt at a compass was waiting.
“Young Lord Wei?”
He looked up at Lan Xichen, who’d turned at the door. “Yes?”
“Do take your practice seriously,” he said, with a knowing look.
“I – yes, Sect Leader. Of course.”
Lan Xichen gave him a smile, then closed the door behind him and left.
***
He couldn't concentrate.
Whenever he let his thoughts roam, Lan Xichen's words kept popping up. And with them came an uncomfortable mixture of memories: Lan Wangji's furious face when they'd reunited after the Burial Mounds, Jiang Cheng yelling how he would no longer be able to protect Wei Wuxian, and standing all alone in Lanling's palace hall surrounded on all sides by fear and suspicion...
- are you dragging him down -
No. He wasn't. He wouldn't. He would never let it come that far.
He pushed the thoughts forcibly aside and tried to concentrate on something else, something that brought him peace. That first time, perhaps, his hands bound and Lan Wangji in front of him, beautiful and terrible and serene, or after that, the way Lan Wangji had spread out on the bed, loose-limbed and sated, relaxed in a way Wei Wuxian had never seen him before...
Footsteps sounded outside, soft and familiar, as if summoned by his thoughts. Wei Wuxian smiled, then wiped all expression off his face and straightened his back, head bowed and eyes closed, hands on his knees, one straight line from the base of his spine to the crown of his head. Textbook position.
The door slid open, then closed, and then there was a thunk of something being put down, and more footsteps. Wei Wuxian stayed pointedly quiet, keeping his face immobile.
Then, “You’re still thinking too much.”
Wei Wuxian pulled a face. “How do you know that? Can you read my thoughts, now?”
“Practice more.”
“I have been practicing all afternoon.”
Which was mostly true. He may have skived off once, or twice, or more times, to work on his talismans and read through Lan Wangji’s notes and to whittle at the latest version of his compass, but most of the time he’d actually attempted to meditate.
“Not enough.”
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes. “Anyway, I don’t see why you – ”
And he froze.
Lying on the table in the middle of the room was a sword.
“It’s a practice sword,” Lan Wangji said. “Its spirit is mild and welcoming. It accepts most cultivators.”
Wei Wuxian could sense that. He could also sense the place inside of him that should already be searching towards the spiritual consciousness of the sword, and the void that was there instead, anything that once upon a time could have reached out cut off brutally, still smarting like a wound that never closed.
Wei Wuxian slid of the bed and turned away. “It’s of no use to me,” he said, trying to sound casual.
“It’s an easy sword to practice with. Both me and Lan Xichen used it when we were children.”
“Well, then I definitely can’t use it,” Wei Wuxian said, raising his eyebrows. "If you and your brother found it suitable, it surely won’t fit my temperament.”
“It may be a first step.”
“I don’t need a first step. The problem isn’t the sword, it’s – ” He stopped himself, shook his head. “There’s no point.”
“At least try.”
“No.” He glanced at the sword again and winced. “Stop this, will you? You can find me any sword you like, I’m not going to use it.”
“Why?”
Wei Wuxian shrugged. “I’ve lost the taste for it. Everyone’s always doing the same thing, maybe someone should – ”
“Don’t lie.”
Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, then turned, crossing his arms across his chest. “Stop trying to persuade me, then. Drop this. Don’t ask me things I can’t answer and I won’t tell you lies in return.”
Lan Wangji was frowning at him, looking a little like he’d had the first time they’d seen each other after the Burial Mounds. Disapproving, not understanding, and completely unwilling to let it go. “No.”
“It’s no use trying to convince me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, with forced patience. "The answer will always be no. I won’t take up swordfighting again.”
“Won’t?” Lan Wangji asked. “Or can’t?”
“Does it matter? When the end result is the same?”
“Wei Ying.”
He looked away. It was easier than facing the disappointment and confusion in Lan Wangji’s usually so stoic expression.
“Tell me,” Lan Wangji said, voice softer now.
“Can’t,” Wei Wuxian admitted, still looking away.
“Why? Has your core been so corrupted that you can’t even take up a sword again?” Lan Wangji reached for Wei Wuxian’s wrist and cast up a spell – one of the medical kind, the sort Wen Qing used, to read –
Wei Wuxian backed away violently. The back of his knees hit the table behind him and he stumbled, flailed, would have fallen if it wasn’t for the screen he grabbed hold of in support.
Lan Wangji slowly lowered his hand, the light of the spell extinguished.
“Promise me you won’t attempt that again,” Wei Wuxian said, shaken.
Lan Wangji shook his head, without speaking.
Wei Wuxian sat down heavily on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “Can you stop this, please? This sword business?”
A long silence. Wei Wuxian could feel the weight of Lan Wangji’s gaze on the back of his neck, but he absolutely refused to look back up. He could bear Lan Wangji’s disappointment in him, but only barely. Looking him in the eye would make it so much worse – and might even make him reveal things he really shouldn’t, just to ease that horrible feeling of failure.
Then, at last, there was a sigh. “I have to go put this back,” Lan Wangji said. “Meditate while I’m gone.”
“I will.”
“Properly,” Lan Wangji added.
Wei Wuxian shot him a tired, small smile, then swung up his legs into lotus position again. He closed his eyes and listened to the door sliding closed, footsteps fading.
He tried to clear his mind again, forcing down the gnawing feeling of failure and inadequacy and focusing instead on the low sounds of the environment, a bird's call, the wind rustling, the fading crunch of gravel underneath soft soles, and - Voices?
Wei Wuxian blinked, hesitated, then reached into his sleeve to pull out a talisman. He quickly drew life onto it, then set it to fly outside. After a moment, he could hear the voices as clearly as if they were standing in the room with him.
“- will not say.” Lan Wangji’s voice, emotionless as always.
“Not even to you?” And that was Lan Xichen again, his calm, gentle tones instantly recognisable. “Then I suppose we have no hope for him.”
“No.” Immediate, almost aggressive. “There has to be a way.”
“If he insists on choosing this path – ”
“It’s not a choice. Whatever it is, it isn’t voluntary.”
A deep sigh. “Let’s, for a moment, assume there is some reason why he can’t take up his sword again, and yet somehow that reason is not grave enough to keep him from going back to the right path. What would you do?”
“The talismans he makes – ”
“Tricks and sorcery.”
“They may be more than that. He’s been developing new ones, finding new ways to – ”
“A new way of cultivating, yes, I’ve heard. And you think this will make it easier for him to be accepted again into society?”
Silence.
“Bring him back to the right path, Lan Wangji. That’s the best we can do for him.”
“For him? Or for everyone else?”
A long pause. Then another sigh. “At the very least, he needs to show that he’s able to control himself. No more near-misses, no more striking fear into everyone’s heart with that flute of his. He needs to be in full control.”
“He will.”
“You are determined. I trust your judgement. But be careful, Wangji.”
“He’s no threat to me.”
“Not in the way you assume, perhaps. But he is changing you.”
“Yes.”
“Good evening, brother. Take care.”
And then two steps of footsteps, both echoing out.
Wei Wuxian extinguished the talisman with a flick of his fingers, then sat back, brooding.
Tricks and sorcery.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it all before. No one but Lan Wangji had ever shown an actual interest in what he was doing, but everyone had their judgement ready.
Then again, no one had been in his position before. Talismans, magical tools, the only options available to people with low spiritual energy, but those people didn’t have the training and knowledge he’d had. Only someone who’d gone through the years and years of study required of a Senior Disciple could ever hope to safely develop new, powerful spells, or dabble in experiments without the risk of it exploding into their faces. But since the only people allowed to study to that level were people with enough energy to actually form a golden core at some point, no one actually bothered with talismans and the like once they could handle a sword, which was infinitely more powerful than all the other options – but of course it was, if no one ever took the trouble of refining the others. A perfect, vicious circle.
He flicked a talisman out of his sleeve and glared at it. Everyone used them. Just not exclusively. Childish, Lan Wangji would probably call it, and maybe they had a point, maybe from the outside it looked strange to willingly forsake a sword in order to cultivate with a lower kind of tool. But couldn’t they at least give him the benefit of the doubt? The Tiger Seal, there he could understand their distrust, but this?
Change, that was it. A new path. And since, according to them, there was only one true righteous path, all others were automatically evil.
He sighed and slipped the talisman back. Maybe, eventually, they would start to see the good sides too. If he worked hard, if he could prove that the things he made were not only useful but could even save lives… Well, even the Sect Leaders couldn’t be so blind as to ignore that, could they?
His experiments were already starting to head into the right direction. Lan Wangji's guidance helped, too; he already felt a lot steadier and calmer than he had ever since he'd been tossed into the Burial Mounds, which in turn made it easier to focus the way he needed to when he was trying out new things. If he could just keep this up, keep practicing, even this meditating nonsense, maybe he’d eventually find a kind of balance of mind, a peace where the Tiger Seal's presence wouldn't bother him so much and he'd be free to devote all his attention to his work – but that, of course, required Lan Wangji to give up his obsession with swordcraft and accept his path for what it was.
He might. Yes, Lan Wangji was law-abiding and strictly moral, but the mere fact that he’d let Wei Wuxian come here instead of leaving him in the Burial Mounds to rot already spoke to his willingness to see things in another light. No one else would have given him this kind of second chance. Maybe Lan Wangji would, eventually, accept the idea that there might be a different path available to them that wasn’t inherently evil, maybe he would support Wei Wuxian in his choices.
And if he didn’t – and here Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but smile, bitterly – then soon enough Lan Wangji would realise that he couldn’t really help Wei Wuxian the way he wanted to. And then Wei Wuxian would be free to go, with the only broken heart his own.
He sighed, closed his eyes, put his hands back on his knees and tried, once again, to achieve a complete emptiness of the mind.
***
By the time Lan Wangji came back, the sun had set, and Wei Wuxian was restless.
He had given up on meditating after realising his mind was simply going in circles, and had instead tried to distract himself by working on his compass. The last one he’d made had actually functioned for a full five seconds, but then had suddenly cracked. Too sensitive, perhaps, taking in more traces of demons and beasts than it could handle. This time, he was attempting to narrow down the radius, see if that worked, but if that was overloading its abilities too, then…
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian looked up to see Lan Wangji slide the door closed behind him.
“I told you to meditate.”
“I di-id, for a little while.” He put the talisman down and got to his feet, stretching. His neck ached from being bent over the little wooden disc for so long. “But then I got bored with it.”
“Bored?”
“There’s more useful things to do with my time than sit still and think of nothing.”
“Wei Ying.”
He ignored the reprimand and sauntered to his room. “So did no one ask why the Great Lightbearing Lord needs a training sword?” he asked over his shoulder.
“No.”
“It’s because you scare everyone. With your beauty,” he added, smirking. “You’re simply too perfect to be real, everyone is terrified of offending you, in case you’re actually a god in disguise.”
“Wei Ying?”
“Yes?” he asked nonchalantly.
Silence.
Wei Wuxian turned and faced Lan Wangji again. He was looking serious – even more so than usual – and very very focused on Wei Wuxian, like he was preparing himself for some kind of negative reaction.
“What is it?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyebrows raised.
“I want to send to Sect Leader Jiang and ask for your sword to be sent here.”
Wei Wuxian pulled a face. “Why would you do that? It’ll only annoy him further, and it’s not like it will do any good.”
“You don't miss having your own sword close?”
“I told you, I’m bored with it. If it’s sent here I’m probably just going to leave it outside to rust.” He leaned his shoulder against the partition and crossed his arms. “I told you, Lan Zhan, stop nagging at me about swords.”
“What about the sword you got from the Black Tortoise?”
“What about it?” he asked, carefully neutral.
“What happened to it?”
“I lost it,” he said. “I suppose the Wens must have taken it. Who knows where it is now, probably in a treasure room of the Jin Sect. Are you going to send those a messenger, too? I thought the whole idea was to keep my stay here secret?”
“Wei Ying – ”
“Look, Lan Zhan, just accept that I’m not going to hold a sword anytime soon, all right?” He straigthened up and turned back to his own room, trying to bite down on his growing need to snap, or yell.
“They’ll never accept you back if you don’t carry a sword.”
“Then I suppose they’ll never accept me,” he said casually. He bent over to pick up one of the slips of parchment that had fallen off the table and put it back. “Or maybe I won’t accept them, what about that?”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji snapped. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Stubborn? Am I being stubborn?” He sat down on his bed, leaned back on his hands, tried to sound calm and level-headed. “I’m just exploring a new path, that’s all, not my fault they’re not interested.”
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asked from the other room, something uneasy in his tone.
“Oh, don't, it’s not like I’m doing anything really evil, I’m not killing people, you know.” He got up again and strolled to the window. “Or, well, killing any more people than everyone else is – Lan Zhan?” He broke off, wide-eyed.
Lan Wangji had burst into the room, hand on his sword, every inch of him alert and ready to fight.
Wei Wuxian frowned. “What is it?”
“Your voice cut off. I thought you…”
“My voice cut off? I was just talking, did you nod off? Was I that boring?” Wei Wuxian glanced around the room, puzzled, until his eyes fell on the bed, and –
Oh.
Lan Wangji looked around, still alert. “There’s an energy…”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing, it’s just – ” But Lan Wangji had already bent down and found the talisman, hidden below the foot end of the bed. He pulled it loose, then held it up, expression dark.
“What’s this?”
“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian said quickly.
“Wei Ying.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just a muting spell – based on that little trick of yours, actually. You should be proud of having inspired me, rather than chastising me for doing something harmless.”
“What are you mu-”
“I snore,” Wei Wuxian lied, straightfaced. “Terribly. I’ve been banished to spending my nights on the outskirts of the sleeping quarters all my life because my snoring keeps people awake. It’s easier to just – ”
“Wei Ying.”
He raised his hands in innocence. “I swear, that’s just it.”
“What do you have to hide?” Lan Wangji asked, frowning.
“Nothing.” He turned away. “It’s exactly as I said, I don’t want the noises I make at night to wake you up, that’s all. It’s politeness, I thought you would appreciate that, yet here you are blaming– ”
“Noises?”
He looked up abruptly. Damn. Caught.
“You have nightmares?” Lan Wangji asked, eyes searching Wei Wuxian’s face.
“Well, yes. So does everyone. Don’t you have nightmares? Of your manuscripts being smudged or your headband getting wrinkled?”
Lan Wangji didn’t react. He was still studying Wei Wuxian closely. Waiting for a reply.
Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, reluctantly, “I may have more than most. After that stint in the Education Division, and the Burial Mounds, who wouldn't? But you shouldn’t concern yourself with them, I get more than enough sleep.”
Lan Wangji nodded firmly and turned on his heel, striding back to his rooms. “All right.”
Wei Wuxian slumped in relief. For a moment there he’d been convinced Lan Wangji would keep pushing the issue and then things would’ve gotten difficult, but as it was, he –
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”
Wei Wuxian jumped up. “What?”
“You won’t tell me.” Lan Wangji bent over the chest where he kept his robes. “So I’ll see for myself. Get ready for bed.”
“But – ”
Lan Wangji straightened again and turned, meeting Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian said, after a moment, ducking his head.
Lan Wangji nodded. “Get changed, then come here.”
He pulled a face, but Lan Wangji had already turned away. Wei Wuxian sighed and stripped off his outer robe.
He had no idea how he was going to get out of this one. Maybe, with a bit of luck, he wouldn't wake up screaming this time, or he would be able to stop himself soon enough that Lan Wangji wouldn't notice. Or he could just stay up all night, and make a point out of being exhausted the day after – surely Lan Wangji wouldn't force him to do this a second night if it meant preventing him from sleeping?
“Wei Ying.”
“Coming, coming...”
Dressed only in his tunic and trousers, he went back into Lan Wangji's part of the rooms. Lan Wangji was already on the bed, stretched out, hands folded over his midsection, and eyes closed. His hair was loose, no ornaments apart from the always-present forehead ribbon. It made him look softer, somehow, less severe.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, softly.
Wei Wuxian swallowed, then gritted his teeth and got down on the side of the bed, swinging his legs out and copying Lan Wangji's pose.
The bed was just large enough for the two of them to lie down side by side, elbows touching. Lan Wangji seemed to fall asleep almost immediately, limbs growing heavy and breathing slow and steady.
Wei Wuxian stared at the ceiling and tried to leech off some of that peace and calm. His mind was still far too busy for sleep, bad memories and dark imaginations prowling at the edge of his consciousness, and this nearness, this intimacy, wasn’t helping either. The last time he’d been in Lan Wangji's bed had been just after…
Wei Wuxian shut his eyes tight and tried to think of nothing.
“Sleep,” Lan Wangji said, beside him.
“You’re too warm,” Wei Wuxian said, with a whine.
Lan Wangji didn’t reply. Besides, it was something of a lie. The weather had been cold for a few weeks now, and having another person this close was actually rather comfortable. But it was Lan Wangji. He was only ever this close to Wei Wuxian when they were…
But apparently, that wasn't happening tonight either.
Wei Wuxian sighed, then tried to settle himself in more comfortably. He consciously relaxed the muscles of his face and slowed his breathing down to match Lan Wangji’s. For a few moments, it worked.
Then Lan Wangji made a very quiet noise, which nevertheless went straight to Wei Wuxian's insides, and he was instantly awake again.
Well. That was the plan, then. He'd stay awake all night and annoy Lan Wangji in the morning, and Lan Wangji would take pity and let him sleep in his own bed again and no one would have to talk about any nightmares ever again.
Wei Wuxian bit the inside of his cheek and purposefully didn’t move. While depriving Lan Wangji of sleep was a tempting idea in theory, he didn't actually have the stomach for it. He would just have to lie here, unmoving, until morning.
Maybe he should try to meditate again.
After a few more moments of Wei Wuxian lying absolutely still, Lan Wangji sighed and pushed up onto one elbow, facing Wei Wuxian. “What’s wrong?”
Wei Wuxian closed his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Not tired yet.”
“Wei Ying.”
He pressed his lips together. That damn tone in his voice - not even his sister, not even Madam Yu had ever been that good at piercing all his defences.
He opened his eyes. “You’re distracting me.”
Lan Wangji lay back down, then turned onto his side. “Turn over.”
“What?”
“Turn over.”
He blinked, then turned onto his side, his back to Lan Wangji. For a moment he was convinced Lan Wangji was going to push him off the bed, but then an arm came up around his waist and he was pulled back.
Lan Wangji’s chest flush against his shoulders, their legs close, Lan Wangji’s arm heavy on his waist and his hand on Wei Wuxian’s chest, and Wei Wuxian breathed in sharply through his nose to suppress the sudden rush of delight that nearness gave him.
“Sleep,” Lan Wangji murmured into his ear.
This wasn’t helping. All he could think about was Lan Wangji’s body, this close, this warm, and the scent of him, clean and flowery, and if he shifted down just a little he could probably –
“Wei Ying.” Even softer, now. “Sleep.”
He closed his eyes, and, after a moment, took Lan Wangji’s warm hand into his. Their fingers folded together and he got a little squeeze.
Wei Wuxian slowed down his breathing, matching his speed to the movement of the chest pressed against his back. Lan Wangji's thumb swept over the back of his hand as if in encouragement.
Slowly, Wei Wuxian felt himself relax.
A moment later, he was asleep.
***
The voices pulled at him.
The screams of the dead, screeches and growls, guttural and broken. Hatred, agony, the panic of death approaching and the fury of unspent revenge, all calling for him, clawing at him, refusing to let go.
- Wei Wuxian, let us out –
They reached into the darkest parts of him and found what they recognised – hatred as fierce and pain as agonising as theirs, and like a fire being stoked they jumped upon it, scavengers on a corpse, predators smelling spilled blood, tearing at him and he couldn't control it, couldn't –
- Wei Wuxian, let us take them apart –
- Wei Wuxian, strike before they can hurt you, listen –
- Wei Wuxian, listen –
- Wei Ying –
There, that last one, different than the others. A light to guide him. He grasped it desperately, drowning, and pulled himself up with immense effort and –
And Lan Wangji was above him. “Wei Ying,” he said, and there was raw naked fear in that voice.
Wei Wuxian shook his head, wordlessly, and sat up, dislodging Lan Wangji’s hands. He ran his fingers through his hair, wiped the sweat of his forehead, tried to calm his breathing. The clean smell of the room helped, and the warm solid presence of Lan Wangji still pressed close to him, but…
But some part of him was still in the Burial Mounds, hurt and terrified and only keeping himself together by the skin of his teeth.
“Wei Ying.”
Soft, now, as soft as the touch on his back. Careful.
It would be so easy to let it all out, to stop hiding this and share everything with Lan Wangji, explain what he was going through, and hide in Lan Wangji’s comfort and safety…
But Lan Wangji would never approve of what he’d done, and the thought of having to face that disapproval, that judgement –
No. Better to keep this inside.
“You screamed.”
Wei Wuxian forced a smile onto his face and turned to look over his shoulder at Lan Wangji’s worried face. “I was dreaming of that time you knocked the Emperor’s Smile bottle out of my hands and it broke, spilling its contents everywhere. Devastating, truly. ”
Lan Wangji just kept looking. In response, Wei Wuxian closed his eyes and leaned back against Lan Wangji’s chest, revelling in the safe feeling of the arm coming around to support him.
“In the Burial Mounds, did you – ”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
A long silence.
“Can you go back to sleep?” Lan Wangji asked.
“Not right now. Don’t worry, I will be fine in a little while. I usually am.”
“Usually.”
Wei Wuxian cracked one eye open and tilted his head back, trying to see Lan Wangji’s face. It was, as per usual, wholly unreadable – unless you looked at the eyes.
He looked almost angry.
A shiver ran down Wei Wuxian’s back.
Lan Wangji disentangled himself from Wei Wuxian and got up from the bed, leaving behind only the coldness of the room and the dried sweat on Wei Wuxian’s skin. He whined at the loss and reached out, fully intent on enticing Lan Wangji to come back.
“Stay. Lie down.”
He grumbled but complied, pulling the blanket over him.
“Close your eyes.”
He sneaked one more glance at Lan Wangji – cross-legged by the fire, radiantly beautiful even in this half-light - then closed his eyes.
A moment later, the deep warm sound of the lowest string of the guqin washed over him. He jolted and would have sat up to look if it hadn’t been for Lan Wangji’s repeated order to be still.
So he stayed down, and let his consciousness flow along with the steady tread of the deep strings, weave into the meandering melody, predictable and beautiful and right…
Until he slept.
***
The first thing Wei Wuxian was aware of was that he was warm – comfortably so, more than he’d been in a while.
The second thing was that he felt rested, in a way he hadn’t felt since the Burial Mounds. Only barely awake but already he could feel the energy running through him, like a current through his veins, ready whenever he should need it.
The third thing he noticed was that there was an arm around his waist.
He closed his eyes again and reviewed the memories. Lan Wangji had caught him suffering through the nightmare, and then he’d played his guqin, and…
Wei Wuxian smiled.
Behind him, Lan Wangji sighed in his sleep and turned a little, but he kept his grip on Wei Wuxian. There was something incredibly pleasing about that heavy arm on Wei Wuxian’s waist, a safe, anchoring kind of weight.
But he was awake now, and too restless to keep lying still. He carefully took Lan Wangji's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. A wordless murmur was all the reaction he got – still truly asleep, then. Good.
Wei Wuxian gently lifted the arm off him, then slipped out of bed and went to his own part of the rooms. He glanced outside. It was still dark, but a grey tinge at the horizon betrayed that dawn wasn't far away.
He paced up and down the room a few times, trying to pin down this strange, light feeling he had. Maybe it was just the effect of having an undisturbed sleep, the first in many months, maybe this was what he was supposed to feel like in the mornings. That, or it was the effects still lingering from the song…
He shot a fond glance at Lan Wangji, still asleep, looking peaceful and relaxed and younger than he ever did when he was awake. The fact that he’d taken the effort to play in the middle of the night, without any encouragement, just to get Wei Wuxian to fall asleep again…
- Is he helping you? Or are you dragging him down? –
Wei Wuxian sighed and sank down on his bed, and tried to wrestle down his guilt. All this effort, all this energy Lan Wangji put into him, and what did he have to give in return? He couldn’t take up his sword again, even if he’d wanted to. Couldn’t manage to meditate either. What else was there?
- he needs to show that he’s able to control himself –
He tilted his head back, squeezed his eyes shut. Did Lan Xichen have a point? Was he in danger of losing control? He certainly didn't have control over his dreams, but no one did, really, and at least there he couldn’t do much danger. And while he was awake…
He wasn’t Wen Ruohan. He knew how to keep a hold on himself. He wouldn’t just start murdering for the fun of it, wouldn’t give in to the bloodlust of the voices whispering at the edges of his mind, wouldn’t give in to those dark urges –
Except it had been a close call, on multiple occasions, and if it hadn’t been for Lan Wangji to keep him back every single time… Would he have already snapped, killed someone without meaning to?
Maybe they did have a point, maybe his control wasn’t as reliable as he thought. After the battle it had become easier to suppress the presence of the Tiger Seal, but only because he kept his hold on it constant. As soon as he slipped even a little bit, as soon as it sensed even the tiniest of openings, it took an enormous effort to close that off again.
So that was the problem, really. He just needed to learn how to reassert that control once he'd lost it, instead of getting trapped in the chaos.
He shot one last look at Lan Wangji’s room – no noise, no sign of him stirring – then pulled up his legs to sit cross-legged. Maybe that was why this meditation thing wasn’t working: he didn't need to empty his mind, he needed to do the opposite.
He took a deep breath.
And then laid down the iron walls he’d fought tooth and nail for and let the Tiger Seal's presence into his mind.
Instant clamour. Thousands of voices yelling across each other, one more horrible than the other, an overwhelming blinding rage running through them all and –
Wei Wuxian pressed his hands against the side of his head in a desperate attempt to gain some kind of foothold. He’d done this before, starved and injured, so he could do this again in the comfort of Cloud Recesses, but…
But the rage pulled at him, tore at him, finding the fear he had for the Wens and the indignant fury at the abuse of the prisoners and it dug its claws in and didn’t let go and he couldn’t, he couldn’t find a way out again, couldn’t control this, they were right, he was arrogant and a fool for even trying to attempt -
- Wei Ying -
There were so many of them, so many, and he could feel all of their pain, all of their anger, all of their deaths and all of their resentment and they all wanted so much from him -
- Wei Ying -
A pinprick of light in a pitchblack night, miniscule and drowned out by the roar of the voices who refused to let him go, dragging him back down as soon as he tried to pull away from them, they needed him, they had been waiting for so long, resentment growing and growing and -
- Wei Ying! -
Miniscule but so so different to everything surrounding it, and he could reach it now, grab hold of it and cling to it and drag himself towards it like he had before, inch by agonising inch until –
- with an effort that seemed to wrench at his bones he slammed the walls of his mind closed.
He breathed out, listened – no, it was fine, they were once again in the background, nothing louder than a murmur in the wind.
He opened his eyes.
Lan Wangji was kneeling in front of him. They were holding each other’s arms, and Wei Wuxian’s fingernails had dug so deeply into Lan Wangji’s skin that he left little bloody crescents as he let go.
“What are you doing?” Lan Wangji hissed, his grip on Wei Wuxian’s arms only a little less tight than his had been.
Wei Wuxian shook his head, wordlessly. He still couldn’t focus properly, his head was pounding, and there was something wet running down his chin.
“Wei Ying. Why did you do this?”
“Practice,” Wei Wuxian choked out.
The resulting disgusted fury on Lan Wangji was enough to turn the comfort of nearness and touch into something unbearable. Wei Wuxian shook the hands off and got up, walking half-blind until he reached the window, where he folded his arms and looked out, trying to suppress the urge to run away even further.
He could still hear the echoes of screams.
“Irresponsible,” Lan Wangji said, voice close to shaking with an emotion Wei Wuxian didn’t want to examine too closely.
“I don’t see why.” Wei Wuxian wiped his hand over his chin, blood smearing across the back of it. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted me to do, aren’t I? Learning to control myself.”
“You were doing the opposite.”
“Can’t expect me to be perfect from the first try, right? I can’t keep hiding behind your guqin, Lan Zhan, I need to…” He turned, glanced very briefly at Lan Wangji, then quickly looked away again.
“This is no joke.”
“I’m not laughing. I have to practice. I can’t always rely on you to be there. I need to do this on my own, for when I - And I have, I can, except I can’t manage to – ” He gritted his teeth in frustration, then turned and sank down to the floor, back against the wall, eyes closed and hands pressed against his forehead in an attempt to fight the headache, crushing his head like a vice being tightened.
He felt drained.
“Wei Ying.”
He didn’t dare open his eyes.
“What did you do, exactly?” Lan Wangji’s voice, gentle and careful. He sounded oddly like his brother, all of a sudden.
“Let go,” Wei Wuxian said, quietly. “A little bit. To see if I could get it back.”
“So you weren’t trying to cultivate?”
That surprised him enough to make him open his eyes. Lan Wangji was in front of him again, crouching to be at his eye level.
He didn’t look angry anymore.
Wei Wuxian shook his head, suddenly feeling a little at a loss.
Lan Wangji bent his head. Then he looked up and met Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Next time you do this, tell me first. Don’t sneak off to do it in secret.”
Wei Wuxian nodded. His insides felt like a string pulled taut. No disapproval, no anger –
But why was it so important to him what Lan Wangji thought of him?
“Come on,” Lan Wangji said. He stood up and held out his hand.
Wei Wuxian took it and let himself be pulled upright. The firm, warm grip steadied him, and some of the echoes faded away.
“Where are we going?”
“Out,” Lan Wangji said. He let go of Wei Wuxian’s hand and took his sword, then went straight for the back entrance. Wei Wuxian hurried after him.
The air outside hit him like a slap in the face, cold and sharp and enough to help ease the headache a little. He breathed in deeply, then quickly followed Lan Wangji up some rough steps carved into the mountainside.
“Aren’t you afraid anyone will see me?” he asked as he caught up with Lan Wangji.
“No. It's still too early. And the path is secret.”
He followed behind Lan Wangji, both of them barefooted and underdressed. The black of night was just turning to the grey of pre-dawn, the birds not yet awake, the whole world holding its breath.
There was a strange peace to it all, but it was difficult to enjoy. The determined look on Lan Wangji's face was worrying Wei Wuxian a little, and he was far from recovered; his head was still pounding relentlessly and he felt weak, shaky, like he’d burnt up all his reserves.
After the steps they took a path up the mountain, half-overgrown and mostly hidden by the greenery. Lan Wangji set a firm pace at first, but after the second time Wei Wuxian stumbled, he slowed down, and took Wei Wuxian’s arm to support him as soon as the path was wide enough to walk side by side.
Then Lan Wangji pushed aside a few thick branches, revealing the space beyond, and despite his tiredness, Wei Wuxian smiled.
The Cold Spring.
“Feeling nostalgic, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji gave him a slightly exasperated look. “Get in.”
Wei Wuxian tugged his tunic loose and dropped his trousers to the rocks, then stepped into the water. It was even colder than he remembered and the shock of it briefly took his breath away. He shivered and wrapped his arms around him.
“Deeper,” Lan Wangji said, from the safety of the shore.
Wei Wuxian pulled a face, then obediently waded deeper until he found a spot where he could lean against the rocks, the water coming up to his chin.
It was freezing.
“Are you going to stand there and watch?” Wei Wuxian called out. “Or are you going to join?”
“I'll join.”
Wei Wuxian sat up a little and turned his head. Lan Wangji was looking uncharacteristically insecure as his fingers picked at the fastening of his underrobe.
“I promise I won’t look,” Wei Wuxian said.
Lan Wangji glared at him.
“Unless you want me to,” he added, innocently.
The glare intensified.
Wei Wuxian closed his eyes – as much fun as it was sometimes to rile Lan Wangji, the thought of actually making him uncomfortable turned his stomach – and sank deeper into the icy water. It was definitely colder than the last time he’d been here, but for some reason, the ice of it felt oddly comforting. No stamping his feet or clamping on to Lan Wangji for warmth this time.
He smiled, and for a moment he could see the memory playing out before him, Lan Wangji fully-dressed and stiff, desperately trying to keep his distance, and Wei Wuxian, already intrigued beyond what was reasonable, pushing and prodding just to get a reaction. He remembered well how drawn he'd felt to Lan Wangji then - his standoffishness, if anything, had only made him more attractive.
Strange to think, that he’d once been that innocent and carefree.
“I’m not that badly injured, you know,” he said as he leaned back against the rocks, letting himself float. “I don’t need this.”
“You do.”
Wei Wuxian almost opened his eyes again, but then he could hear the sound of water splashing quite near him and he kept them closed.
“You think I’ve damaged my mind, then, Lan Zhan?” he asked. “That I’ve gone insane?”
“No. Wounded.”
“Same difference.” He sank a little deeper. “You’re not alone. They all looked at me like I was spouting nonsense, after I came back from the Burial Mounds. They thought that I was making it up, that I’d been hallucinating – and who can blame them, everyone knows that no one can survive the Burial Mounds.”
“If anyone could, it’s you.”
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes in surprise. Lan Wangji had submerged himself into the water to just above his collarbones, and had found a spot not too far away from Wei Wuxian. His eyes were fixed on Wei Wuxian, still with the same concern and care he’d had in their rooms.
Wei Wuxian looked away. “I almost didn’t.”
“How did you?”
He stared ahead, feeling for a moment the pain from his injuries again, his crushed hand, the brand on his chest, and the fear, the panic, the loneliness, the desperate effort of keeping himself together, balancing between the roaming spirits of the mountains trying to drag him in and the trapped energy of the sword, made to be used, begging him to allow it its revenge, and him caught between those two, trying not to get crushed…
But this time, the overwhelming fear that usually overtook him when he remembered that time seemed to be taken by the ripples in the water around him, siphoning off the pain and fear and hurt, and leaving, if not exactly peace, then at least a welcome numbness in its place.
“Wei Ying?”
He shook his head and forced himself to smile. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m not sure if I have an answer, anyway. Other than…”
“The Tiger Seal.”
Which he’d crafted with the constant threat of death and insanity swirling around him, attempting something he wasn’t even sure would work but if it didn’t, he’d…
He took a breath, let it go slow and controlled, and once again felt that strange draw in the water, like a purifying draught taking all the poison with it.
“It's helping,” Wei Wuxian said, with wonder. “The Spring.”
“Heals all damage,” Lan Wangji said, softly.
“Hmm.” He tipped his head back. “Shame I can't stay in here all day. Although I'd probably freeze to death before noon.”
The sky was turning lighter, the first sun peeking over the horizon and rays of light breaking on the surface of the water. It emphasised the beauty of this place, untouched by human hands, natural and free.
“And your flute?”
“What about it?” he asked, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, a clear contrast with the rest of his body.
“You also used it. To survive, there.”
“Yes,” he said, eyes still closed and letting the water take the fear, the pain, the loss. “I needed a tool, and I couldn’t use my sword.”
“Because the Burial Mounds spirits were damaging your core.”
“No, that happened befo-” He stopped himself.
Lan Wangji didn’t speak, though. He let the silence fall, no sound but the soft sloshing of the water.
Wei Wuxian smiled, tiredly. “Ah, Lan Zhan. You have a way of making me say things I should never tell anyone.”
“You don’t have to.”
Wei Wuxian cracked one eye open. Lan Wangji was watching him, gravely, and with that odd intensity that always gave him shivers.
“No?” Wei Wuxian asked. “You wanted to know, once. You were ready to fight me for it.”
“Not anymore.”
He blinked. It wasn’t like Lan Wangji, who in his way could be even more tenacious than Wei Wuxian himself, to just let something important like this lie.
“Why not?” Wei Wuxian asked.
Lan Wangji kept looking at him without speaking for a few moments. Then he looked down. “Your eyes,” he said softly. “They change.”
Wei Wuxian stared. Out of all the replies he’d expected, that hadn't been one of them.
Then Lan Wangji bent over and stood up. The water cascaded off his shoulders and arms, down his chest to his hips.
Wei Wuxian snapped his mouth close.
“Come. We’ve been here long enough. You need to warm up again.” He turned and waded through the water to the shore, then got out, the muscles of his shoulders and legs working as he pulled himself out of the water.
He looked over his shoulder. “Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian blinked and pulled himself upright. “Yes, yes, hold on...”
“Don’t dawdle,” Lan Wangji said, turning his back to Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian scrambled back onto the shore, muscles aching, and stumbled after Lan Wangji. “Are we going back? It's too cold to dry here...”
“No,” Lan Wangji said as he spread out his robe on the ground.
Wei Wuxian approached, feeling a little nervous again. And distracted, because Lan Wangji was still naked, and he had lost his earlier unease too. He was crouching down in front of a fire pit, his powerful form folded together and Wei Wuxian could see the tension in his thigh muscles, his toes gripping the ground…
And then a spark as Lan Wangji lit the fire with sparse, precise movements. He sat down, cross-legged, on the robe, and straightened his back, as always sitting in perfect lotus position.
“Sit down, Wei Ying,” he said, after a moment.
Wei Wuxian sat down next to him, hesitantly. They were close to the fire and the heat of it certainly felt nice, but…
He glanced aside at Lan Wangji. He'd closed his eyes and put his hands on his knees, and in the early light of dawn he looked breathtaking.
It was the first time Wei Wuxian actually had the opportunity to simply look at him. The profile, well-known, but also how the line of his throat dipped down to his collarbones, the strong muscle at his shoulders and arms and the elegant turn of his wrists, and the way his chest tapered down to his waist and -
Wei Wuxian cleared his throat and looked away.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji said, after another few moments. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t ask.” Lan Wangji opened his eyes again. “Did you sleep well, eventually?”
“I, er, yes.” He scratched his nose. “I fell asleep very quickly – but you probably noticed that, of course.”
Lan Wangji hummed, closing his eyes again.
“I should’ve told you,” Wei Wuxian said, after a moment. “About the nightmares. Instead of trying to hide them from you.”
“Yes.”
Wei Wuxian gave him a sardonic look, but nothing had changed in Lan Wangji’s serene expression.
“I didn’t want to bother you with it,” he added. “There isn’t much to do about it, anyway, so…”
“Isn’t there?”
He thought of the night, the slow reverberating tones of the guqin and waking up with an arm around him, and shook his head. “I can’t go asleep like that every night, though, can’t I?”
“Why not?”
Wei Wuxian's head snapped around. Lan Wangji was looking at him with a mildly curious expression, like the proposition he'd made was perfectly reasonable.
Wei Wuxian laughed nervously. “I – I couldn't ask that of you. It mustn't be very comfortable to have to share your bed with me every night, I probably mess up your sleeping position, and I’m sure there’s a rule somewhere prohibiting – ”
“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji tilted his head. “Why are you sitting so far away?”
“I, er…”
“Come here.”
Lan Wangji spread his legs and Wei Wuxian carefully came closer. Surely he didn’t mean…
But he did, because as soon as he came within range Lan Wangji grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit between his legs, so Wei Wuxian’s back was once again flush with Lan Wangji’s chest and his arm was around Wei Wuxian's chest.
It was incredibly close, after the careful distance he’d kept in the waters. Almost too much, like it'd been last night, but at the same time the closeness also brought the same kind of peace again.
Wei Wuxian folded his hand over Lan Wangji's, put the other one on his knee. He could feel each movement of Lan Wangji’s breathing, and as he leaned forward, Lan Wangji rested his head against Wei Wuxian's shoulderblade.
And against his back he could feel…
He grinned. “Lan Zhan. Enjoying this, are you?”
“Be quiet,” Lan Wangji said calmly.
“You can try to deny it as much as you want, but your own body says different.”
“Pay it no attention.”
“Why not?” Wei Wuxian asked, pouting.
“Not the time, nor the place.”
“Isn’t it? You said it yourself, no one comes here. We’re alone.” Wei Wuxian turned around so he sat on his knees between Lan Wangji’s drawn-up legs.
“Wei Ying...” Lan Wangji said, raising his hand as if to push him away.
So Wei Wuxian lunged, grabbing Lan Wangji’s face between both his hands and kissing him, hard enough to make him lose balance and topple him backwards. Wei Wuxian held on tightly and went with him to the ground, legs on either side of Lan Wangji’s hips. Lan Wangji’s skin still felt cool from the water and there was so much of it and he was touching it all and nearly drunk on the contact.
Then Lan Wangji grabbed his shoulder and heaved him around, so Wei Wuxian was on the ground with Lan Wangji above him. He reached but Lan Wangji caught his wrists and pinned them above his head.
Wei Wuxian went still.
A little bit like that first time, this. Being held down, having a part of his control taken away, and it probably shouldn’t feel as nice as it did.
Then again, it was Lan Wangji. There was no one in the world he trusted more. If anyone could be allowed to take over for a little while, it was him.
He breathed out, slowly. Lan Wangji was watching him very closely and as always when he did that, Wei Wuxian’s stomach flipped.
“There are no rules this time,” Lan Wangji said, sounding a little puzzled.
“I know.”
“Then – ” He stopped, and narrowed his eyes a little.
Wei Wuxian wriggled, the clenching in his stomach intensifying. “Lan Zh-”
“Shush,” Lan Wangji said absently. He shifted his grip, taking hold of both of Wei Wuxian's wrists with one hand. His free hand reached down and Wei Wuxian threw his head back and buried his teeth in his bottom lip as Lan Wangji’s cool fingers wrapped around the most sensitive part of him. “You like this?”
“I – apparently, yes. Keep – keep your hands there, if you – ah.”
It was an exquisite kind of torture, being trapped between both of Lan Wangji’s hands like this, squirming and gasping but with no give, no way of freeing his hands and even his legs were mostly immobilised and why did this feel so good?
Lan Wangji’s hand sped up. Wei Wuxian bit his lip again, tasting blood, and pushed up his hips, desperate for just that little bit of friction more and –
And Lan Wangji stopped.
Wei Wuxian gasped for air, his whole body shaking, but no other touch came, nothing but the feeling of cold air against hot flesh.
He dropped his head back. “Lan Zhan, you demon.”
“Be quiet.”
A touch, light as air, brushed the inside of his thighs. He squirmed. The grip around his wrists tightened.
It was hard, though, to lie still, as Lan Wangji’s fingertips went up over his hip and across his ribcage. Wei Wuxian sucked in his breath and bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt not to pull away, but once again Lan Wangji’s grip around his wrists went tighter. He whined.
Lan Wangji slowly made his way down again, back to the inside of Wei Wuxian’s thighs and avoiding touching where he wanted it most. Then the fingers dipped lower, and –
“Hey, hold on – ”
“Shush,” Lan Wangji said again, frowning in concentration.
Nervousness curled in Wei Wuxian’s stomach, but nothing particular happened, other than that same maddeningly light touch, on what seemed to be every single sensitive place on his body.
And when Lan Wangji’s hand suddenly returned to his hardness, he gasped in shock – the contrast was immense and he was so so close and the feeling of that cool palm against him was, was – was almost too much, close to over-stimulation.
He bit the inside of his cheek and curled his fingers as finally, mercifully, pleasure crested. He gasped for air, then suddenly felt Lan Wangji's lips against his, his moans swallowed by Lan Wangji's mouth and the hold on his wrists increasing well beyond the point of pain but he didn't care at all.
He slumped back, panting. There was a strand of hair in his face, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to blow it away.
Lan Wangji was still holding on to his wrists. He wriggled his fingers but nothing happened, so he just closed his eyes and relaxed into it. Even though his shoulders were starting to ache a little, he felt oddly peaceful.
“Wei Ying.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to let go of your wrists.”
“Hmm.”
The pressure released and Wei Wuxian turned onto his side.
“Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian flapped his hand at where he thought Lan Wangji was, until he heard a sigh and Lan Wangji laid down next to him. He rolled over again and curled himself half over Lan Wangji’s chest. “You’re cold,” he muttered.
Lan Wangji didn’t reply.
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes and smiled up at Lan Wangji’s peaceful face. Then he looked down.
Lan Wangji shook his head. “It’s fine.”
“Is it?”
“Wei Y-“
But he’d already reached down, and Lan Wangji’s jaw went tight as Wei Wuxian’s fingers closed around his length.
“Diligently take care of the health and wellbeing of your body, Lan Zhan,” he said, grinning. “Be aware of its needs and treat it accordingly.”
“Wei nngh– ”
“Well?” Wei Wuxian asked as he stroked up. “Nothing to say?”
Lan Wangji closed his eyes and lay back, mouth a little open. Wei Wuxian let go and pulled himself up, threw a leg over Lan Wangji’s waist and bent down to kiss his throat.
The moan he got in reaction was extremely rewarding, as was the hand coming up to tangle in his hair.
“You should – should rest,” Lan Wangji mumbled, as he tilted his chin back, revealing more of his throat and shoulder.
“I am resting.” He slid his hand over Lan Wangji’s chest, down to his hip, then bent his head and bit down on Lan Wangji’s collarbone.
The hand in his hair went tight and he could feel the muscles of Lan Wangji’s stomach tense up. It was deeply satisfying – last time, amazing though it was, he hadn’t really been able to do much touching apart from the obvious. But now here Lan Wangji was, naked and willing and pliable, and arching into Wei Wuxian’s hands as if he was starving for contact.
Maybe he was. I don’t touch strangers – and from what Wei Wuxian had understood, he hadn’t done much touching with non-strangers either.
He shifted, kissing a path down Lan Wangji’s chest. Lan Wangji was breathing rapidly, ribcage expanding and contracting beneath Wei Wuxian’s searching lips. And when Wei Wuxian drew his fingers lightly over Lan Wangji’s side in revenge for earlier, he yanked so hard at Wei Wuxian’s hair reflexive tears sprung into his eyes at the pain.
Not that he minded.
He shifted down again and grabbed hold of Lan Wangji’s hips. He licked his lips, started to lean down – then stopped, as Lan Wangji grabbed him by the shoulder.
“You don’t want this?” Wei Wuxian asked, surprised.
“No – wait, here…” And he was hauled up again, ending up nose to nose with Lan Wangji. “Close,” he muttered. “Stay close.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, seriously, then ran his fingers through Lan Wangji’s hair and pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped his leg around Lan Wangji’s hips and pulled, so they were both lying on their side, then reached down again. Lan Wangji broke away, eyes squeezed shut, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.
He looked incredibly, radiantly beautiful.
Wei Wuxian grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in. He nosed at a spot beneath Lan Wangji’s jaw, hand between their bodies working rhythmically. Lan Wangji’s fingernails were clawing at his back, as if trying to draw him even closer - Wei Wuxian barely had room left to move, but in a way that just made it better.
As the tension in Lan Wangji's body increased, Wei Wuxian bit down again, lightly, at the juncture of shoulder and neck, and twisted his hand. Lan Wangji made a choked noise and his nails dug deep into Wei Wuxian's shoulders. His back arched, his hips thrust forward and he jerked in Wei Wuxian’s arms, wetness spilling over his hand and stomach.
Then he relaxed, going heavy and loose-limbed. Wei Wuxian rolled them over and turned so he was lying once again half over Lan Wangji’s chest, and listened to the frantic heartbeat slowly calming down.
And then there was just the whistle of the early birds, and the wind on his bare skin.
“Cold,” Lan Wangji muttered.
“We’d best get up and get dressed, then.”
“Hm.”
Wei Wuxian sat up, and looked down, fondly. Lan Wangji's eyes were half-closed and he had that dazed, satisfied look on his face that only ever appeared here, with him, and...
And for a moment Wei Wuxian simply forgot about everything, the Tiger Seal and his loss and the fear and the deaths, and he just felt incredibly pleased and proud that this man, this beautiful, impressive man, had somehow chosen Wei Wuxian as the one who was allowed to touch him.
Lan Wangji blinked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” Wei Wuxian smiled and looked down, then rotated his wrists. There were dark red spots discolouring the skin, likely to turn black and blue in the next few hours. He'd better wear his wrist bracers today then, in case Lan Xichen dropped by again and got the wrong idea.
Lan Wangji was still lying on the ground, arms spread, staring up at the sky.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked softly.
Lan Wangji hummed.
“I said we should probably get dressed and head back.”
Another hum.
“Lan Zhan?” He grabbed Lan Wangji’s arm and gave him a little shake.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Lan Wangji let out a deep sigh and straightened up. He glanced at Wei Wuxian’s wrists and frowned.
“They’re fine,” Wei Wuxian said, quickly. “Just some bruising. I don’t mind.”
“I noticed,” Lan Wangji said drily. He got up and took his robe from the ground, then threw Wei Wuxian his tunic and trousers.
They both got dressed again. Wei Wuxian kept sneaking glances at Lan Wangji, who was acting his usual composed, serene self again. Hard to believe than only a few moments ago, he’d been…
Lan Wangji carefully straightened his forehead ribbon, then turned to Wei Wuxian. “How are you feeling?”
“Er… Fine, I suppose.” He blinked, checked himself – yes, no longer exhausted, his energy coming back to him and the shaking had disappeared too. “Better than I did earlier.”
“Headache?”
“Gone.” He frowned. “Wait, how did you know that I - ”
“I saw.” Lan Wangji bent down to pick up his sword, then glanced up. “Are you ready to go down again?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Come on, then.”
They took the path back to the house. Lan Wangji led the way, a shining bright white shape standing out against the shadowy greenery surrounding them.
Lightbearing Lord. A beacon of virtue for everyone to follow, a man so righteous and honourable and correct he was famous for it throughout all the Sects. No wonder they’d looked so strangely, when they saw him and Wei Wuxian together.
And no wonder that Lan Wangji seemed to have trouble coming to terms with all the things Wei Wuxian had done.
- Is he helping you? Or are you dragging him down? -
Wei Wuxian felt his high spirits sink again as he remembered Lan Wangji’s fury, his continued exasperation at what he probably thought was just stubbornness, the fear as he'd seen Wei Wuxian with his control slipping…
And now avoiding it altogether. Lan Wangji didn’t want to know anymore. For all that his questioning and probing had bothered Wei Wuxian before, this absence made him feel even worse.
Made him feel like Lan Wangji had given up on him.
They reached a platform, just before the stairs descended back to the house. Lan Wangji had stopped, so Wei Wuxian brushed past him to go down. But before he could move forward he was stopped by a firm grip on his arm.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just tired, again.” He tried to pull his arm loose and much to his surprise, it actually worked.
But Lan Wangji reached up instead and put his hand on Wei Wuxian’s cheek, thumb resting lighting on his cheekbone. “What’s wrong?” he asked, again, and the look in his eyes…
Wei Wuxian didn’t have any defences against that look.
“Something you said,” Wei Wuxian said, reluctantly.
“What?”
“That you don’t want to know anymore. About what happened.”
Silence.
Wei Wuxian stared fixedly at the rock beneath his feet. Lan Wangji’s hand was still on his cheek, and he couldn’t stop being aware of it.
“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian sighed and closed his eyes. “I understand. It’s not something you’d want to – ”
“I do want you to tell me,” Lan Wangji interrupted him. “But of your own accord. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh.” He opened his eyes again and frowned in thought. “But…”
“I can wait,” Lan Wangji said, and he dropped his hand and started down the stairs.
Wei Wuxian rocked forward briefly on his heels, then hurried after him. “And what if I never tell you?”
Lan Wangji inclined his head a little, but didn’t slow down. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“You disapprove. Of my tricks, my sorcery. You’ve told me before.”
“Things change.”
Wei Wuxian almost stumbled on the next stair and had to grab a branch to stay upright. “You – what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You survived,” Lan Wangji said. “For that, I’m grateful.”
“Doesn’t matter that I used unorthodox methods to do it?”
“If it was the only thing that worked.”
“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian grabbed his arm and turned him around, stopping him. “Surely, you don’t approve? Of what I did?”
“You survived,” Lan Wangji repeated, quietly. “And that is the most important thing. No matter how you did it.”
Wei Wuxian stared at him. For such a long time, he’d been convinced that – even though Lan Wangji already knew a large part of what had happened – if he were ever to fully share the story, Lan Wangji would turn away from him in disgust. He’d never expected this calm, easy acceptance.
“But you still want me to give up what I’m doing,” Wei Wuxian said, after a moment. “And go back to swordcraft.”
“It would be better for you.”
He let go of Lan Wangji’s arm and turned away, looking out onto the valley below.
For a moment he genuinely considered telling Lan Wangji everything, from the loss of his core to the full circumstances of Wen Ning’s almost-death. But…
But he didn’t dare. What he had was already more than he’d ever expected to get. He didn’t want to risk losing that.
“Wei Ying?”
A hand crept into his and squeezed. He closed his eyes and breathed in, slowly, to push the back the tears.
“Come on. Let’s go down.”
He nodded, and let Lan Wangji lead him down.
They didn’t let go of each other’s hands until they reached their rooms.
***
“Be careful.”
“Wei Ying is no danger to me.”
“That’s not what I meant. Be careful with him.”
“Lady Wen, I don’t think I understand.”
“He keeps many things hidden away. He hides his suffering and pain because he doesn’t want to be a burden to others. Sometimes to the point of attack – he’d rather be hated than helped.”
“I’m aware.”
“He will need time, and patience. Will you be able to give him that?”
“Yes.”
“And why, Lightbearing Lord?”
“Because he deserves it. He deserves someone willing to listen.”
“You don’t know half of the extent to which that is truth.”
“Lady Wen – ”
“Ah, here he comes. Good luck, Lightbearing Lord. You chose a prickly one.” A smile. “But I can see why.”