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The Mid-Autumn festival is one of the few exceptions to the curfew of the Cloud Recesses. Even so, it is well past the extended time when Wangji and Xichen meet behind the Jingshi. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and there's little need for light, but Wangji lights two lanterns at the pergola's entrance and motions Xichen up the stairs.
"Outside, Wangji?" Xichen asks, raising an eyebrow as his eyes land on the hanks of red rope and a small wooden box resting on a bench.
Wangji doesn't answer aloud as he meets his brother's gaze and lifts his own eyebrow in challenge.
Xichen sighs and shakes his head. "Wangji," he chides, but he also steps close enough for Wangji to reach out and catch his wrist. Wangji draws him up the stairs under the shelter. Xichen doesn't resist as Wangji moves into his personal space, nor the kiss Wangji takes from him.
Smug, Wangji smiles against Xichen's mouth. Stop me, he silently dares his brother as the kiss deepens. Xichen's lips part, not even a token of resistance between them. Wangji takes, his tongue sweeping into Xichen's mouth as he tastes him.
Under the kiss, the soft bites as Wangji tugs at Xichen’s lower lip, the tension eases from Xichen's shoulders in shudders of pleasure. Being a sect leader takes so much out of him. It seems the least Wangji can do for his brother, his sect leader, is to take the weight off his shoulders when he can. This—the rope, the pain Wangji plans to give Xichen—does it faster than any sect task Wangji could take over.
Wangji trails his hands down Xichen's chest to his belt and deftly unties it. He only breaks the kiss to set it and the jade pendant Xichen wears beside the red rope on the bench.
"Outside it is," Xichen says softly, answering his own question. "You're terrible, didi."
"Yes?" Wangji turns and cocks his head at his brother, allowing the corner of his lips to tip up into a smile. "Undress, xiongzhang."
Xichen does. All seven layers of his clothing come off, piled inelegantly along with his belt on the bench. Wangji watches; he always watches. Xichen's obedience is beautiful, something to be treasured. They've learned many things together and taught each other so much about their desires that they’ve long since become familiar with one another. Xichen's obedience, that familiarity, doesn't make him any less beautiful.
Once Xichen is naked save for his forehead ribbon, he kneels down in the center of the pergola, chin raised and arms neatly folded behind his back.
The familiarity is comforting, too. Wangji steps forward and strokes his fingers over Xichen's hair, sliding them into the thick mass and untying the ribbon around his forehead. He winds the slip of silk up, and it joins the pile of Xichen's things, along with the heavy silver crown. The last of Xichen's remaining tension falls from his face when Wangji takes the guan away.
Wangji picks up the smallest hank of rope and returns to his brother to snap it open at the bight to see Xichen shudder in reaction. Wangji lingers, letting the anticipation build before he gathers Xichen's hair and loops the rope around it to secure it in a messy bun.
"What are you planning, Wangji?" Xichen asks, but Wangji stays silent and pulls the hanging rope, forcing Xichen to his feet instead.
The rope is his answer. The two steel rings hanging down from the rafters are his answer, if Xichen cared to look. Or think, but Xichen quickly stops thinking when the rope comes out. Wangji likes it that way.
He wraps Xichen in a simple harness, binding his folded arms together behind his back and sending the ends of the rope up through the large ring hanging over them. He forces Xichen onto his toes before taking a third length of rope and sinking down to his knees.
"Oh," Xichen says, and Wangji can see the realization of what is about to happen bloom across Xichen's face. Wangji bends Xichen's knee and works a harness around his thigh and leg. Xichen balances precariously on one foot, still forced up on tiptoe, as Wangji rises and sends the remaining rope from Xichen's leg harness through the second ring. "Oh," he repeats.
"Is xiongzhang ready?" Wangji asks as he steps back for the final hank of rope. Xichen moans, low and needy. Wangji moves swiftly, reaching to tug the still-hanging end of Xichen's hair bondage. Xichen moans again as his head is forced back; he wobbles on his toes and loses balance— he shouts as he falls, the sound cutting off in a low groan as the rope catches him and holds him at an angle, his head tipped towards the wooden floor.
"Is xiongzhang ready?" Wangji asks again as his heart starts to race in his chest. He doesn't need the answer. Xichen's ragged breath, the way his eyes close and his mouth softens is answer enough. Still, Wangji forces Xichen to speak; he jerks on the rope in his hair again, setting his brother swaying in suspension.
It takes a long time for Xichen to find his words—just the one word: "Yes," he whispers, voice hoarse. He is already so far gone, and Wangji is there with him. Though, where Xichen's thoughts fade and his attention softens, Wangji comes into single-minded focus. There is nothing; there is no one else but them.
Wangji lifts Xichen’s unbound leg and quickly ties his thigh to his calf so it doesn’t dangle uselessly. Then he pulls the last free rope from Xichen’s hair and ties it to the O-ring. It forces Xichen’s head up and forces him to hold himself so carefully as not to keep constant pressure on his hair. Xichen hangs in the red ropes, completely at Wangji’s mercy, or lack thereof.
He trails a finger down the column of Xichen’s throat before he turns and opens the box, taking out a red candle and lighting it with a bit of qi. “A lantern for Mid-Autumn.” He leans down and kisses Xichen before fitting the candle in his fist, positioned so it will drip down his fingers where his hand rests behind his back.
Now, Wangji steps back to admire his work. Xichen breathes heavily as his body sinks into the ropes. There is a new tension, a good tension, as Xichen fights to hold his head up so the bondage doesn’t pull at his hair.
“Xiongzhang,” Wangji calls, voice low.
Xichen blinks his eyes open and tries to focus on Wangji. His head drops, and he cries out as the rope catches his hair and pulls it taut. Wax splashes off the candle, and Xichen hisses in shock.
“Don’t drop the candle,” Wangji warns as Xichen’s hissing turns to a low whine.
“N-no,” Xichen whispers as he holds his head up again. “I won’t, Wangji.”
It’s too easy. Wangji wants more, needs more from his brother. He needs to hear the soft sounds of his pain. He turns from his brother to set candles up lighting them as he goes, before picking one up and letting the others burn down.
Wangji trails his fingers over the length of Xichen’s thigh, stroking over the rope and following his fingers with hot drips of wax from the candle. Xichen flinches and sets himself swaying, sending splashes of hot wax from the candle in his hand over his shoulder. Wangji doesn’t stop. He basks in the Xichen’s suffering.
“Ah—” Xichen drops his head again, and the cry of pain from the hot wax turns sharp and high as his hair is pulled once more. Wangji drips the wax further down, inching perilously close to Xichen’s half-hard cock, for the joy of hearing fear color the sounds Xichen makes. Sharp indrawn gasps, and finally, a high, tortured whine as the wax lands over the shaft of his cock. His cock twitches and doesn’t go soft for the pain.
He could fuck Xichen like this. Until he was dizzy from his position and the blood rushing to his head. Until the candle in his hand fell or the flame teased his fingers with scorching heat. Wangji could. He won’t. The denial of Xichen’s pleasure is better than fucking him.
Wax splatters down across Xichen’s cock, and Xichen moans as Wangji gently wraps his fingers around his shaft and lifts it to drip wax over his balls and the tender skin of his inner thighs. Xichen’s cock twitches in his hand, and Wangji can feel his own dick respond in kind.
“Wang— Wangji,” Xichen’s voice cracks. Wangji strokes his hand upward and catches Xichen’s foreskin between his fingers, pulling on it until Xichen starts pathetically whining.
Wangji smiles a small, private smile and releases Xichen’s cock. He says nothing as he takes the candle and holds the end to Xichen’s lips. “Drop it, and you won’t orgasm.”
Red wax drips onto the worn wooden floor of the pergola. Xichen’s jaw tenses as he holds the candle between his teeth, and Wangji already knows Xichen will fail. Gently, in contrast to the thoughts of violence racing through his mind, he strokes his fingers over Xichen’s cheek. Xichen’s eyes close, and Wangji strikes.
The sound of the slap echoes in Wangji’s ears as the sting of impact echoes in his palm. Xichen bites through the candle in shock. It lands on the wood floor without a sound, the flame gone before it hits the ground. Xichen spits out the nub of wax, shame-faced, almost crying. Wangji slaps him again.
If Wangji can take Xichen’s tension away with pain, Xichen returns the gift with that very same pain. Wangji once feared the violence under his skin, his desire to break. Xichen taught him that it is not only possible to indulge his sadism but that the desire to hurt doesn’t need to be done without love.
A great deal of love is caught in the palm of Wangji’s hand as he steps around Xichen and slaps his other cheek. This time, the wax from the candle in Xichen’s hand splatters across his back as his body sways backward in the bondage. Wangji watches the rope bite into skin as it holds him tight.
Xichen gives up on trying to keep his head up. He drops it down, allowing the rope to pull viciously at his hair. Wangji has seen very little more beautiful than his brother surrendering.
“Tired already, xiongzhang?” Wangji asks as he forces his gaze away to fetch another candle.
“Mhn.” Xichen is beyond words, lost to sensation. Wangji does not require him to speak.
Instead, Wangji heats the new candle rapidly, melting the wax with his qi and allowing it to spill down Xichen’s torso. Xichen hisses as it drips across his nipples, but he’s too gone to flinch away. Wangji paints his brother’s body with wax, his shoulders and the small of his back.
Wax covers Xichen’s hand, and the candle's flame creeps perilously closer to his knuckles, so close that the hardened, dripped wax starts melting at the top. Xichen would heal quickly from a burn, but that’s not the pain Wangji wants him to feel.
“Let go, xiongzhang,” Wangji says as he leans down, blows the candle out, and plucks it from Xichen’s grip. He doesn’t waste the wax and allows that to drip over Xichen’s hip, following the crease between it and his thigh. Xichen sighs, somewhere between pleasure and agony.
He pours the final bit over the tip of Xichen’s cock, silencing his brother before Xichen yells into the darkness. Wangji tosses the candle stub aside to clean up later and returns to stand at Xichen’s head. Xichen groans in response, eyes closed, head low, hair pulled taut.
“Open your eyes,” Wangji orders as he undoes his clothing, not taking it off but allowing the robes to fall away so his cock is exposed, hard, and wet at the tip.
Xichen licks his lips, and Wangji shakes his head. “No, xiongzhang.” This earns Wangji a sulky, needy whine of objection. His brother is not generally a brat, but he is always ready to beg for Wangji’s cock in his mouth.
Wangji slaps him a final time, his cock betraying his pleasure, twitching, dripping with desire. Xichen’s eyes widen with shock and the sulky look falls away as he sways in the ropes.
“Watch,” Wangji commands, and Xichen obeys. His eyes water with the effort to keep them open as Wangji begins to stroke himself, but he never looks away. Not even when Wangji comes across his face and neck, a soft xiongzhang on his tongue.
This is a gift between them, not just for the holiday. Pain, pleasure, and love wrapped up in red rope, wax, and come painted across Xichen’s skin.
Wangji lowers his brother from suspension, and Xichen melts into the floorboards.
“You made a very pretty lantern, xiongzhang,” Wangji says as he kneels to unbind his brother.
Xichen blinks up at Wangji as he pulls the rope from his hair and smiles radiantly. Mess and all, Wangji leans down to kiss him.
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