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Wei Wuxian was no stranger to a dramatic entrance. In fact, he might wager that his life had contained more dramatic entrances than any other type of entrance, a wager that not many would dare bet against. This dramatic entrance, however, was unlike others. This one wasn’t cocky or exuberant or righteously furious. It was distraught. Wei Wuxian was distraught, as much as anyone had ever been.
There weren’t any doors to fling open in the Burial Mounds. Not yet, at least, that was on the agenda right below fresh drinking water and enough food to fill everyone’s bellies consistently. Wei Wuxian tried to give his harried entrance a similar energy as a door crashing against a wall, though.
“Wen Qing!” He called, infuriated, enraged, incensed, a little bit aroused, though that had nothing to do with Wen Qing. “Wen Qing, answer me right now!” he shouted again, his voice echoing a hysteria around the stone of the cave that was very much earned.
He spotted her with her back to him, fiddling with something no doubt less urgent than his panic. Not that he was panicking, he was just shocked and upset and a little bit unmoored. Also, he was panicking.
He waited just a moment for her to turn around to meet his glare with one of her own, but she seemed to be taking the ignoring-him route.
“Does my bite make you horny?”
That got her attention.
She spun around to give him a flat stare that spoke of oceans worth of longsuffering. Her sleeves were tied up and there was enough light in the cave to see the long healed-over pinpricks of scars dotting the pale skin of her inner arm. Wei Wuxian had never quite mastered getting his fangs in the same spot every time, so there were two little clusters the same distance apart, just slightly offset, like constellations split into two separate little armies.
He wondered if every time had made her–
No, he refused to think of it, it was too horrible. He couldn’t bear it if it were to be proven true.
When he had first been transformed into this thing of monsters he was now–not the Yiling Patriarch, but the other monstrous thing about him, the one almost no one knew–he had resented it to the depths of him.
Wei Wuxian had never met another vampire before Wen Zhuliu. He’d been terrified of them as a kid, and he’d remained tacitly terrified of them until he became one. He had still been terrified when he realized what he’d become.
After the burning of Lotus Pier and the giving away of his core, Wei Wuxian had resigned himself, coreless and captured, to death, until Wen Chao’s monster had been ordered to sink his teeth into his neck. Wen Chao had laughed at Wei Wuxian’s horror and then had stepped back in fear when he’d realized just exactly what Wen Zhuliu had set in motion to create of Wei Wuxian. Being thrown into the Burial Mounds had been intended to put a stop to his transformation but had ended up ensuring it. Death of the body, burial, and resentful energy were all required for the transformation to take place, and Wen Chao had fulfilled all with one simple whim.
Wei Wuxian wondered whether Wen Zhuliu was ignorant as to what Wen Chao was making of Wei Wuxian, or if he’d simply neglected to inform his young master. If Wen Chao had left Wei Wuxian where he’d beaten him, probably nothing would have happened. There was a slight chance he may still have turned, had he died from his injuries, had some kind soul come along and given him a proper burial, had his spirit been resentful enough, but Wen Chao throwing him into the Burial Mounds had ensured it.
But, as it was, Wei Wuxian had been dropped on cursed grounds empty and had emerged ravenous.
He’d sated himself throughout the course of the war on Wen soldiers, drained in darkened corners of the battlefields. He’d kept it secret all through the war, isolating himself, pushing everyone away. He’d nearly thought Lan Wangji had figured it out, always cornering him with questions and requests to purge his darkness. But then, he’d realized that no Lan would even try to concoct a melody to cure the pit in him that had craved bloodspill.
In fact, him being this monstrous thing had most likely kept those other cultivators from discovering his core-less-ness, having now, as a coreless non-cultivator, the strength and speed and dexterity that most average men could only dream of. He hadn’t been able to carry his sword, of course, Suibian’s spiritual energy had burned into his palm like a brand when he’d tried to draw it, so he had put it aside for his flute. But otherwise, he’d fit the robes of a cultivator. His bloodstained ones hadn’t even stood out in the midst of a war, where even Lan Wangji himself wore splatters of their battles on the hems of his mourning robes.
After the war, he’d nearly starved, having run out of enemy soldiers to feed from without remorse. He’d resigned himself to wasting away. However, just as he’d given himself up for dead, lying in his bed with no energy, half-written letters of goodbye fluttering at his desk, embarrassingly somber and horrifyingly sappy, hopefully left unread, his Shijie had found him. Darling Shijie, who had been bringing his favorite foods, having noticed that he hadn’t been eating, only to be pounced upon as soon as she’d approached his prone form.
After a few moments of shock, her wrist having been captured and blood pouring past Wei Wuxian’s lips, his guilty eyes meeting her confused ones, she’d softened in understanding and had muttered, “Oh, A-Xian,” and had began stroking his hair as he’d taken and taken and taken until she had been pale and trembling. Tears had dripped from his lashes over her arm at such tenderness. He’d drank until her eyelids fluttered and she swayed where she sat.
No apology had been accepted, no worry allowed.
“A-Xian, nothing could ever make me love you less.”
“But I’m a monster.”
She’d laughed, lying her head on his shoulder, nearly drifting from the bloodlet.
“You were a little monster when A-Die brought you here, what’s different now?”
As they rebuilt Lotus Pier, he’d eaten from her, barely enough to live off of, though he told her he was fulfilled. She was frail for a cultivator, but more than hardy compared to average people, so other than a few dizzy hours after a feeding, she hadn’t fared any ill-effects. Other than the little scars she kept hidden under her sleeves. After that first bite, he’d switched to feeding from the crook of her elbow so as to pose fewer questions.
“Zixuan will ask questions once we’re married.”
“Just because you’ll be married doesn’t mean he’ll have to see your arms bare.”
She’d given him a look.
“If he even tries to look at so much as your wrist I’ll rip his throat out.”
But then he’d kidnapped the Wen to the Burial Mounds, forgetting completely that he’d left his food source behind in Yunmeng.
Wen Qing had hit him when he had admitted to what he was, when he suggested turning Wen Ning to save him, and then she’d collapsed to her knees and begged him.
She’d become his next food source, then. The other Wen were too frail and old for him to rely on, not that he would ever ask. Wen Qing had been the obvious choice, the only choice. Sometimes, he had wondered if she had volunteered less to keep him from withering into nothing and more out of medical curiosity at his condition.
She had been less gentle about it than Shijie, she’d teased him about his condition until he’d nearly forgotten to hate himself for it.
Wei Wuxian had thought they might be able to live like this, perhaps even thrive.
But then Wen Ning had woken up from his grave, freshly hungry and needing more than Wei Wuxian.
Whereas Shijie had been well fed and well rested, a pampered Lady in a rich house, Wen Qing had been struggling on too little of everything. Just Wei Wuxian feeding from her had been a burden, but she hadn’t been able to handle them both. Wei Wuxian had put a stop to it once Wen Qing had started dropping in a dead faint as she went about her day. She had claimed it was just exhaustion or the sun, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t been fooled. She had always been pale after he had fed, and it took her a while to get her strength back, but since Wen Ning woke, it was as if her face had never known color, as if she never had any strength to begin with.
And so Wei Wuxian had resigned himself once again.
Wen Ning had offered to be the one to stop, claiming he owed Wei Wuxian anyway. Wei Wuxian would never have accepted, even before he’d seen the sheen in Wen Qing’s eyes at the idea of being asked to give up her little brother again.
Besides, Wei Wuxian had starved before. Not all the way, but close enough several times in his past. What was one more time? Wen Qing tried her best to convince him that she would be fine, but once he’d stopped feeding from her, she’d gotten so much of her strength back. He hadn’t seen how much he had been taking from her as it was happening, but he had been able to see what his stopping had given back.
He hadn’t expected Lan Wangji.
He had been in Yiling, still pretending everything was fine. It had been a while since he’d last fed, but not long enough that he was desperate with it, just weak. Weak enough for Wen Yuan to slip through the crowd without his notice, weak enough that he hadn’t found him until he’d heard his wails above the sound of the crowd.
He’d found the boy firmly attached to Lan Wangji’s leg, wailing as if he’d never known love. The crowd around had been berating Lan Wangji for being a poor father, and a red flush had been rising over his cheeks at the attention.
Wei Wuxian’s mouth had pooled with saliva, then, so suddenly that Wei Wuxian had nearly been shocked by it. Lan Wangji was just so vibrant, so alive.
But he’d shaken himself, determined to get Wen Yuan back and leave Lan Wangji here.
He hadn’t even realized he’d stumbled until Lan Wangji had caught him around the waist with a gasp of, “Wei Ying.”
He had been led, then, weak and starving back up to the Burial Mounds. Wen Yuan chattering on to Lan Wangji about how his Xian-gege “falls over now all the time.”
“Wei Ying, let me help,” Lan Wangji had beseeched once he’d deposited Wen Yuan with Wen-popo and lowered Wei Wuxian onto his stone bed to rest.
He had been so lovely in the soft light of the cave, so vital, a flush on his neck and warmth radiating from him. Wei Wuxian had been so hungry for so long.
“Lan Zhan, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
A gentle hand had brushed the hair from his forehead, a warm wrist so close to his mouth making Wei Wuxian bite his cheek to stop from drawing that wrist to his teeth.
“Then tell me.”
So Wei Wuxian had told him. If he was going to die of starvation anyway, it wouldn’t make a difference if Lan Wangji struck him down for a monster. Other than breaking Wei Wuxian’s heart.
He’d closely watched Lan Wangji’s face as he’d unspooled his tale. There had been horror there, indignation, something like grief, all which Wei Wuxian had expected. What had been lacking, however, was rage, fear, that hard set to Lan Wangji’s jaw that meant he had to do some righteous act. Instead, there had been a tender hand reaching out to grasp his cold fingers.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji had beseeched, in a tone that nearly made Wei Wuxian swoon, so soft and kind. “Let me help.”
That first swell of blood on Wei Wuxian’s tongue had been divine. He’d never tasted something so wonderful. He’d wondered if he had been just that starved or if Lan Wangji’s blood had existed solely to be tasted by Wei Wuxian.
He’d eaten his fill and then more, all while Lan Wangji had sat with a warm hand to the back of Wei Wuxian’s head, encouraging him to take and take and take. He’d felt guilty after he’d eaten all he could, halfway expecting Lan Wangji to sway and faint, but when he’d lifted his head away, Lan Wangji had been as strong and brilliant as ever.
“Do you need more?” Lan Wangji had asked, wiping a drop of his own blood from Wei Wuxian’s chin before it fell onto his pale robes.
Wei Wuxian had been halfway tempted to sink his teeth back in, just for the fact that Lan Wangji tasted so wonderful on his tongue. But he was so full, he felt like he might burst.
“No,” he’d responded, his voice sounding distant and floaty.
When he looked up to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes, he looked soft and floaty too. Had Wen Qing not chosen that moment to burst through the door and demand to know what was going on, Wei Wuxian might have leaned up and kissed Lan Wangji. In fact, he had already been leaning when Wen Qing’s voice echoed around the cave, startling Wei Wuxian into leaping into the air like a cat, nearly bashing Lan Wangji in the chin with his head.
Lan Wangji had stayed.
Wei Wuxian had assumed that if Lan Wangji was going to become his new food source, he would have to spend long stretches of starvation between Lan Wangji’s visits. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to eat every day. Twice a week was preferable, once a week was reasonable, and once a month was survivable, though he would be weakened to the point of barely being able to stand at the end.
When Wei Wuxian brought up to Lan Wangji the idea of him leaving, Lan Wangji had given him a flat, incredulous stare and then turned to Wen Qing.
“Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing had barked, her full vigor back with only one mouth to feed. “Stop trying to kick Lan Wangji out. He’s already asked to stay, don’t make him regret it.”
So Lan Wangji had stayed and had become an immovable fixture. He helped with planting and laundry, with going into town to gather groceries and watching A-Yuan. All the while, he offered up his pale wrist or soft forearm to Wei Wuxian whenever he showed even an inkling of hunger.
Wei Wuxian had regained his strength and so had the rest of the Wen. It was a wonder what another strong pair of helping hands and a full money purse from a spoiled young master could get them.
Until now. Now Wei Wuxian had discovered something horrible and he would have to throw himself into the sea because of it and ruin everything.
He wanted to collapse onto the floor in despair, but he refrained because he knew it would garner no reaction from Wen Qing and such dramatics required reaction to be truly worth it.
“Why didn’t you tell me being fed from makes you aroused?” He beseeched, half ready to bury himself beneath the earth in shame. “I drank from Shijie! I’m going to have to throw myself from a cliff!”
Never one to offer sympathy, no matter how due, Wen Qing offered perhaps the flattest stare anyone had ever been given in the entire history of humankind. Wei Wuxian was a good judge of such stares, having been on the receiving end of such a variety of them, so he was sure. Lan Wangji had nothing on the lack of feeling or emotion or reaction on her face.
“What?” She asked flatly.
Wei Wuxian took several steps back, mainly because he’d never seen that face on her and he knew she kept needles in her sleeve. He didn’t leave, though, because he needed to know if he should run himself through with his sword or not.
But he had to know. He was fraught with the horror of it all.
“Lan Zhan got hard when I drank from him,” he blurted out before slamming his hands so hard over his mouth that it snapped his teeth together painfully.
Lan Wangji would almost certainly murder him if he found out that Wei Wuxian had told Wen Qing about it. In fact, he’d looked as if he had been thinking of murdering Wei Wuxian just for knowing himself when it had happened, though Wei Wuxian had immediately laughed it off to put him at ease.
Wen Qing’s face filtered through several emotions all at once, seeming to get clogged for a moment before her expression smoothed over. After she regained control of her face, Wen Qing closed her eyes, tilted her head, and pulled her lips between her teeth like she was coming to grips with a truth she’d rather not know. And then she threw her head back and laughed.
Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure exactly what she was laughing at. Surely she could understand how dire the situation was.
“Wen Qing,” he whined. “Now is not the time. I need you to answer the question.”
Wen Qing took a deep breath to calm her laughter before turning to Wei Wuxian with a glare that still had a smile peeking out from under it.
“The question of whether or not I got aroused from you drinking my blood?”
“Yes!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.
She was still trying to glare through a laugh and Wei Wuxian felt as if he was losing his mind.
“Do you not have a brain?” She asked flatly.
“Excuse me?”
Wen Qing didn’t let him continue.
“You think I would let Wen Ning use me as a food source if this was the case?” She scoffed. “You’re insane, Wei Wuxian. Truly, I’ve never known a mind like yours.”
Wei Wuxian collapsed against the wall in relief. He would be able to look his Shijie in the eyes still, which was a relief. But Lan Zhan had been hard. He’d been unmistakably aroused. If it wasn’t some magic from Wei Wuxian’s fangs then why had he had such a reaction?
“But what does it mean?” Wei Wuxian asked, dazed, feeling warm and tingly. “That Lan Zhan…” He trailed off, unwilling to repeat what he’d already revealed.
Wen Qing rested her forehead in her palm for a moment before lifting her head to fix Wei Wuxian with a long stare.
“Only you, Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing said.
When Wei Wuxian only blinked at her, she continued, “Maybe Hanguang-jun just gets off on being bitten.”
Wei Wuxian’s stagnant heart did something in his chest, leaping or falling on its face. He felt short of breath and hot all over.
“Excuse me,” he screeched, trying and failing to keep any semblance of composure.
Wen Qing showed no mercy and continued, “Or maybe it's the danger. It could even just be the fact that it's you. Whatever it is, it isn’t just the effects of being fed from.”
Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly, though he was still having trouble understanding exactly what Wen Qing was trying to say. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, so he turned and left, needing to think about what Wen Qing had said, needing to be away from the amused twist of her mouth.
He thought back to that moment, earlier.
He would admit that he and Lan Wangji had been a little closer than usual when he’d fed.
Wei Wuxian had taken one look at Lan Wangji’s forearm, which had been covered in bruises from an afternoon moving stones from a field the day previous, and had refused.
“Lan Zhan, I’m not going to bite you on top of that,” he’d said, though the bruises blooming under Lan Wangji’s skin had looked so enticing. “It will hurt.”
“I can manage,” replied Lan Wangji, soft, determined.
Lan Wangji really would let him, he’d known. Lan Wangji was so good.
Still.
“No, I refuse,” Wei Wuxian had said. “I will wait until they’re healed.”
Really, with Lan Wangji being such a powerful cultivator, even these large, dark bruises would be healed by tomorrow. It wouldn’t be too much of a burden on Wei Wuxian.
Lan Wangji’s little frown was so sweet. Wei Wuxian wanted to paint it, he wanted to write a mountain of poems about it, he wanted to feel it under his own mouth.
“But you’re hungry.”
Wei Wuxian smiled indulgently.
“I can manage,” he retorted, elbowing Lan Wangji softly in the arm.
“You could–” Lan Wangji started, then stopped.
Wei Wuxian perked up, curious. Lan Wangji was a young master with a proper upbringing, he didn’t often cut himself off. He was curious as to what Lan Wangji had been about to say.
Lan Wangji had flushed then, a mouthwatering shade of deep red, and tilted his head to the side, just so slightly. When Wei Wuxian just stared at him dumbly, Lan Wangji’s flush only deepened. He reached a hand up and tugged the neck of his robes to the side, baring the pale, flushed expanse of the crook of his neck.
Wei Wuxian had nearly lunged then. If not for food, then to kiss that secret piece of skin revealed to him now.
Wei Wuxian had seen the salacious illustrations of those like him before, feasting on nubile maidens from the soft skin of their necks. In fact, he’d borrowed one such spring book from Nie Huaisang in their youth, growing hot under his collar before even cracking the book open, and finishing hot and quick into his pants before anyone in the book had even taken their robes off.
This had been some secret desire of his since youth, though most of the time he had imagined himself as the young maiden instead of the beast at her neck. Lan Wangji’s being the throat offered had only burned him even hotter.
“Here?” Lan Wangji finished, hesitantly meeting Wei Wuxian’s eyes.
Wei Wuxian hadn’t had words, his mouth too full of teeth and want. He’d simply nodded once, his eyes trained on Lan Wangji’s throat, his body leaning him closer into Lan Wangji’s space.
Wei Wuxian had leaned over Lan Wangji, slowly, scared of frightening him off. He’d replaced Lan Wangji’s hand tugging his robes to the side with his own, baring even more of Lan Wangji’s skin and trailed his lips over Lan Wangji’s neck trying to find the best spot.
Lan Wangji had let out a small sound when Wei Wuxian had bit down. Wei Wuxian went to pull away, scared that he had hurt Lan Wangji, but a hand at the back of his head stopped him.
“I am fine,” Lan Wangji had gasped out, voice sounding rough suddenly.
Wei Wuxian, awash with want and hunger and greed, had stayed where he was instead of pulling away to check on Lan Wangji. As always, Lan Wangji had tasted divine, though unlike other times, Wei Wuxian had felt compelled to draw himself closer and closer to Lan Wangji until he was nearly in his lap. Lan Wangji hadn’t even protested, only drawing Wei Wuxian in further with one hand to the back of his head and the other at his waist.
Wei Wuxian had had the brief fear that he might never pull away, too drunk on Lan Wangji, until he’d shifted one last time.
Lan Wangji had frozen for one split second and then his hand wrenched Wei Wuxian back by his hair until he was flung to the floor. Wei Wuxian hadn’t even realized what he’d felt until he had already been thrown to the ground.
Lan Zhan had been…
Wei Wuxian looked up to see Lan Wangji’s face absolutely blazing red. He had turned his face away and angled his body so that Wei Wuxian couldn’t even confirm what he’d felt.
“Lan Zhan,” he breathed, shocked, mind swarmed with thoughts.
This was Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji who was the most disciplined person Wei Wuxian knew. Lan Wangji who had barely tolerated Wei Wuxian for as long as they’d known one another. Lan Wangji who was righteous and noble and right. Lan Wangji who had left his home to provide for Wei Wuxian and the Wen with hardly a second thought.
Lan Wangji who had just been hard under his robes with Wei Wuxian’s teeth clamped to the crook of his neck.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time trying to inject some levity into his voice, though that was made difficult by the taste of Lan Wangji still clinging to his mouth.
Lan Wangji finally turned towards him, face carefully blank in a way that indicated he was either overwhelmed or furious, probably both.
Wei Wuxian had been nearly breathless again pinned under Lan Wangji’s stare.
“It’s okay, Lan Zhan, we’ve all—“
“Don’t.”
Wei Wuxian had scrambled to his feet, desperate to ease this tension, still hungry, heat burning in his lower stomach.
“But you don’t have to be ashamed. Even I—“
Lan Wangji had stood then, cheeks burning red and fists clenched tightly by his side.
He hadn’t looked at Wei Wuxian as he’d stalked from the room.
And now Wei Wuxian was left searching for him. He doubted Lan Wangji wanted to be found, but something in him wouldn’t let this stagnate between them. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t eaten his fill, perhaps it was that he was still aroused by just the memory of Lan Wangji hard underneath him. Perhaps he was simply reckless.
He found Lan Wangji near the border of the Burial Mounds, sitting on the dead forest floor, plucking some lovely tune on his guqin.
When Wei Wuxian sat beside him, Lan Wangji didn’t acknowledge him other than to lay his hands over the strings to silence them. They sat for a moment, neither speaking.
“Please do not mock me,” Lan Wangji said softly just as Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to speak.
“Lan Zhan, I would never.”
Lan Wangji nodded once, just a small bob of his head. Wei Wuxian wanted to reach out to him, but he was scared that he would run away again. They sat in silence for a long moment, Lan Wangji staring down at his hands on the strings of his guqin, Wei Wuxian staring at the side of Lan Wangji’s head.
He could see the place where his teeth had been in Lan Wangji’s neck. The collar of his robes were stained a soft red where his blood had dripped from the wound. Wei Wuxian’s mouth watered, but he stayed fixed, tearing his eyes away to stare instead at the curve of Lan Wangji’s jaw and his soft profile, the way his face was so carefully blank.
Finally, Lan Wangji said, “I understand if you would like me to leave.”
He didn’t look at Wei Wuxian, but he raised his head up to stare into the trees, face still expressionless, body still stuck in his rigid posture.
“Why would I want that?” Wei Wuxian asked, scooting closer to Lan Wangji.
He didn’t move close enough to touch, just moving to be closer. Lan Wangji glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t move away, which Wei Wuxian was going to count as a win.
“I have made you uncomfortable.”
Wei Wuxian wouldn’t call what he was uncomfortable, unless you counted having to walk around half hard and have an awkward, humiliating conversation with Wen Qing.
“Because you got hard?”
Lan Wangji flinched at his words, but remained resolute.
“Because I had an inappropriate reaction.”
Wei Wuxian nudged Lan Wangji with an elbow as he always did, hoping to convey that he wasn’t uncomfortable. Lan Wangji was warm, as he always was, and he gasped a slight breath at the touch. Wei Wuxian took that as hope.
“Lan Zhan, you silly man. I wouldn’t kick you out for being aroused. It happens,” Wei Wuxian said. “That doesn’t mean it means anything.”
Even if he desperately wished it did.
“It meant something.”
“What?”
Wei Wuxian’s heart did that same flip it had while he had been talking with Wen Qing, the same flip it had done when Lan Wangji had agreed to stay with them, the same flip as when Lan Wangji had bared his throat.
“To me. My reaction. Meant something.”
Lan Wangji’s words were clipped, and he looked as if he might bolt to his feet and run away. Running was not forbidden in the Burial Mounds.
“Good.”
Lan Wangji whipped his head to finally look at Wei Wuxian, his qin falling from his slack fingers onto the ground. His stony face was replaced with wide eyes and a mouth lax with shock. When Lan Wangji did nothing but blink at him in disbelief, Wei Wuxian continued.
“I’m glad it meant something.”
And then he climbed into Lan Wangji’s lap.
Lan Wangji gasped as his hands came up to cradle Wei Wuxian’s hips, his grip firm even as he trembled.
Wei Wuxian nuzzled into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck where his blood was still pooling on the surface. He breathed over the wound, letting his lips and then teeth brush where there was blood lingering on his skin.
“I want it to happen again,” Wei Wuxian whispered against Lan Wangji’s neck. “I want it to mean something again.”
Lan Wangji let out a shaky breath.
“Yes, Wei Ying,” he said softly, one of his trembling hands releasing Wei Wuxian’s hip to cradle the back of his head. “Please.”
Lan Wangji’s fingers flexed in Wei Wuxian’s hair when he bit down, but relaxed soon after. He released a breath that tickled Wei Wuxian’s hair over his ear and then settled, not relaxing completely, but becoming looser. Wei Wuxian could tell that he was still trembling a little, so he brought his hand up to cradle Lan Wangji’s face, his thumb brushing the soft skin under his eye, his fingers curling around his jaw.
As blood poured past his teeth, a thrill ran down Wei Wuxian’s spine as he made up his mind to rock his hips forward, first just ever so slightly to test the waters, then, when Lan Wangji gasped again and tightened his hand in Wei Wuxian’s hair, again with more force, more intention.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t get drunk on wine anymore, but he felt drunk now with Lan Wangji’s skin under his mouth, his warm body responding in kind to Wei Wuxian’s. Each rock of their hips was punctuated with a little sound from Lan Wangji’s lips and a soft grunt deep in Wei Wuxian’s throat. This was divine. Wei Wuxian couldn’t regret a single thing in his life if it had led to this moment.
Lan Wangji used his hand on Wei Wuxian’s hip to guide the motion of Wei Wuxian’s hips. His hand was large and warm, Wei Wuxian could feel it through his robes. He wanted to tear his robes from his body so that he could feel that hand on his skin, but that would mean having to move away from Lan Wangji and that wasn’t something he was willing to do.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji gasped into his ear.
His voice was desperate and breathy, undone. Wei Wuxian detached from Lan Wangji’s neck to lave his tongue over the wounds there and then up to Lan Wangji’s mouth. He pressed Lan Wangji deep into a kiss, devouring him all over again. He swallowed each desperate noise from Lan Wangji in exchange for some of his own as they moved together.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji gasped again, more desperate, close to the edge.
“Yes, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian muttered.
Lan Wangji’s body bucked up underneath his one last time hard before he stilled and trembled, breathing hard agaist Wei Wuxian’s cheek as he finished.
Lan Wangji’s soft sounds of pleasure drove Wei Wuxian over the edge, and he drew Lan Wangji into another deep kiss as he crested and came.
Lan Wangji rocked him through it, guiding him to seek every last wave of release as the kissed desperately.
As their shifting together slowed to a stop, both gasping and trembling, Wei Wuxian pressed kisses to Lan Wangji’s face, over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, his eyelids and temples, the soft skin under the crook of his jaw.
“I love you, Lan Zhan,” he whispered reverently. “If that wasn’t clear.”
Lan Wangji pulled him even closer, burying his own face in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s neck pressing open mouthed kissed along his throat.
“Wei Ying,” he replied, voice soft, barely a rasp. “I love you. I have always loved you.”
Wei Wuxian wrapped both arms around Lan Wangji and pressed him as close as he could.
The ground was hard under Wei Wuxian’s knees, and his robes were sticking to his skin both from the mess he’d made of his trousers and the sweltering of the day. He didn’t want to move, though. He wanted to stay here forever. He would spend an eternity here in Lan Wangji’s lap. Judging by how tight Lan Wangji’s arms were around his waist, he thought similarly.
“I love you,” Wei Wuxian said again, just to hear those words aloud.
Lan Wangji shuddered against him and pressed another kiss to his throat.
“I love you, Wei Ying.”
Another kiss.
“I love you,” Lan Wangji repeated.
Wei Wuxian bit the inside of his cheek. He was so happy, he was overflowing with it. But, as happy as he was, it didn’t override that pit of fear in him.
“You’re sure?” He whispered. “You’re sure about me?”
He buried his head into the top of Lan Wangji’s hair, but was soon pulled away so that they were face to face.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, a little dip between his eyebrows. “I am sure. Why would I not be sure?”
Wei Wuxian pulled his hands from around Lan Wangji to cup his face in his hands. He brushed his fingers over Lan Wangji’s cheeks just to feel their warmth, how soft Lan Wangji was.
“You’re Hanguang-jun,” he muttered. “Won’t your reputation suffer if you take up with a monster?”
Lan Wangji reached up to clasp Wei Wuxian’s wrists and then he nuzzled into Wei Wuxian’s palm with his cheek.
“I have loved you since we were children, Lan Wangji said. “You could never be a monster to me.”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t not kiss him for that. He paused for a moment with Lan Wangji’s face cradled in his palms. Lan Wangji’s eyes were closed, lips kissed red and slick, parted in anticipation for Wei Wuxian’s mouth.
“You’re so lovely,” he muttered before pressing his lips to Lan Wangji’s awaiting mouth. “The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen,” he added as he pulled back to allow Lan Wangji to breathe.
Lan Wangji smiled under his lips, a soft, little thing that was perhaps more easily felt than seen.
“None could be as lovely as my Wei Ying.”
“Your Wei Ying?” Wei Wuxian parroted with a smile.
“Will you be?” Lan Wangji beseeched. He must have recognized Wei Wuxian’s voice as a tease, because his face was still soft and unburdened. “Won’t you?”
“I would if my Lan Zhan would ask.”
Lan Wangji pulled back to look Wei Wuxian in the eye, his mouth still soft and pink, a slight dimple appearing in the crease his smile made. He reached his hand up and brushed his thumb under Wei Wuxian’s lower lip before raising both hands to the back of his own head.
It took Wei Wuxian a moment to realize what he was doing, but when he did, he waited on bated breath. He knew that the Lan forehead ribbons were special. He knew how angry Lan Wangji had been last time he’d touched it, how embarrassed. He hadn’t been sure what exactly it had meant then, but in light of their conversation, he had a feeling he would be able to infer.
Once the ribbon was loose, Lan Wangji drew it away from his head and brought it to Wei Wuxian’s wrist.
“You’ve done this before,” Wei Wuxian whispered. “In the cave.”
“I meant it then,” Lan Wangji replied, eyes fixed on his task of winding the ribbon around Wei Wuxian’s wrist. “But it requires both understanding and intent to be binding.”
If Wei Wuxian had understood then, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done. Most likely heaps of teasing to calm the frantic beating of his heart until he’d annoyed Lan Wangji into leaving him to the wrath of the cave. Though, Lan Wangji said he’d meant it even back then.
“I understand now,” Wei Wuxian said, breathless with anticipation.
He reached up and brushed his fingers over the pink mark that the ribbon had left behind on Lan Wangji’s forehead. Lan Wangji paused in his winding of the ribbon to reach a hand up to draw Wei Wuxian’s wrist to his mouth in an open mouthed kiss.
“And I am full of intent,” Lan Wangji said earnestly.
He returned to his task and finished tying off the ribbon.
“Will you be mine, Wei Ying?” He asked softly.
Wei Wuxian used the hand now adorned with Lan Wangji’s most sacred symbol to pull him in for a kiss.
“How could I say no when you’ve so attentively tied your ribbon? Who would I be to undo such hard work?”
Lan Wangji pressed him in another kiss.
“Will you be mine, Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian laughed something giddy and full of joy.
“Only if you’ll be mine.”
Wei Wuxian had no ribbon to give, so words would have to suffice.
Lan Wangji drew him into another kiss that turned into several more until they were both panting into each others mouths, grinning and so full of joy.
“We should probably go back soon,” Wei Wuxian whispered into Lan Wangji’s skin. “Or else someone might come looking for us.”
Lan Wangji smiled softly back and pressed one last kiss to Wei Wuxian’s lips before helping him to his feet. They both made a face at their messed robes, and then they both shared a laugh at each other’s discomfort, Wei Wuxian’s a head-thrown-back guffaw and Lan Wangji’s an amused huff.
When they returned, it was to dinner prepared and Wen Qing waiting on them at the edge of the encampment.
“I trust you have settled things?” She asked before eyeing them as they approached.
Her cynical eyes caught on the ribbon around Wei Wuxian’s wrist and Lan Wangji’s naked forehead. Their intertwined hands and the dirt on the skirts of both their robes.
“You two better not have been defiling our forest.”
Wei Wuxian laughed loudly, still so full of joy, as Lan Wangji stood ramrod straight at his side.
“It was already defiled!” Wei Wuxian responded. “We were purifying it. What we did was holy.”
Wen Qing curled her lip in disgust while Lan Wangji’s ears burned red at Wei Wuxian’s words.
“Congratulations.” Wen Qing said. “I expect you to never come to me with any of this ever again unless you are experiencing a medical emergency.”
“Again?” Lan Wangji asked.
Wei Wuxian just laughed again, clinging to Lan Wangji’s arm as Wen Qing rolled her eyes before leaving them to join the others.
“Come on, let's get you cleaned up so you can eat. I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”
Lan Wangji glanced down at him in soft fondness.
“Did you get enough to eat, earlier? We were,” he hesitated with a glance to where the Wen were enjoying their dinner, “distracted.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, leading them towards the cave. “If I didn’t we could always have a repeat tonight.”
Lan Wangji’s ears burned red but he nodded.
“Mark your words.”
Wei Wuxian laughed again. He was so full of joy he felt as if he might laugh forever.
“Consider them marked.”