Chapter Text
“I think—think I l-love you, Lan Zhan.”
The words are said in a gasp—an exhale, really. Sweet and tender and torn from Wei Wuxian’s lips. In the hush that follows, Lan Wangji aches.
Wei Wuxian, he—loves him?
This man who provokes Lan Wangji in the best ways, cares for him so effortlessly, draws out the fire inside him that he’s kept stifled all his life. This man loves him.
Lan Wangji’s thoughts are already running slow, and this—this confession overwhelms him. There is nothing left, now, but warmth and the secure feeling of Wei Wuxian’s arms wrapped tightly around him.
His body trembles as he curls into Wei Wuxian’s chest. Lan Wangji has never been the best at expressing his emotions. He’s never needed to be.
A calm, stoic Lan is the ideal Lan. Emotional impulses cloud the mind. An emotional mind is a lacking mind. These principles have been drilled into him since his childhood.
Yet, now, in the wake of Wei Wuxian’s confession, Lan Wangji’s heart soars. He’s never allowed himself to feel this much at once, never felt as if he might combust simply from the sheer heat of the passion inside him. Surely, it is not bad to allow himself to feel like this. It’s thrilling, really. Sharp and sweet and good.
There’s no way to properly express his emotions, and he’s still a bit untethered, but perhaps… perhaps he can open his mouth and tell Wei Wuxian—
“Wei Ying, I think—” he starts, tongue loose from the hazy headspace of his submission. “No, I am certain. I’m certain that I’m also in love with you.”
Wei Wuxian makes a small choked-off noise. His arms tighten around Lan Wangji and quiver. Lan Wangji nuzzles into his grasp.
He will stay. He will stay as long as Wei Wuxian needs.
Wei Wuxian’s breath is warm against Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Lan Zhan,” he says. “Y-you mean it?”
Lan Wangji closes his eyes. Wei Wuxian is quite silly, sometimes. Luckily, Lan Wangji does not mind reassuring him. Not one bit.
“I would not say it if I did not mean it.”
“Oh. That’s—that’s good. That’s so good, Lan Zhan.”
Wei Wuxian shifts their positions, cupping his hands on Lan Wangji’s cheeks. His skin is so warm, and Lan Wangji cannot help but lean into his touch.
“Do you think you could, um, say it one more time for me?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I’d like to hear it again. If Lan Zhan is willing.”
How can he refuse?
“I am in love with Wei Ying,” he repeats. “I am certain of this.”
Wei Wuxian’s lips wobble. He blinks several times in quick succession as if he still can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.
Lan Wangji will make him believe.
“Wei Ying,” he says, slow and careful. He tries to imbue the two words with every ounce of the gentle affection welling up inside him. Wei Wuxian needs to be handled with tenderness, right now. They both do.
Lan Wangji reaches for Wei Wuxian’s hand and guides it to his own heart. He can feel its frantic rhythm in his chest.
Wei Wuxian looks at him, eyes wide and lips parted. His fingers are a brand on Lan Wangji’s bare skin, resting above his heart.
“Lan Zhan, you—”
“Would my heart race like this if I did not love you? If I did not care for you so deeply?”
Wei Wuxian swallows. He releases a shaky breath.
“N-no. It wouldn’t,” he answers.
So, Wei Wuxian can be taught, then. Taught to believe that someone can and will reciprocate the love he gives so wholly.
Lan Wangji will be good for him. In this way—in any way he needs.
“How are you so—” Wei Wuxian cuts himself off. “How are you so good, Lan Zhan? Reassuring me with so much tenderness. I really don’t deserve you.”
“Untrue,” Lan Wangji says. “Wei Ying deserves good things. And am I not a good thing, as you’ve said?”
Wei Wuxian laughs—a soft hiccup of a noise.
“So logical, Lan Zhan,” he says, lips curling into a gentle smile. He presses a brief kiss to Lan Wangji’s forehead. “You’re right. You are a good thing. The best boy, in fact.”
“And if such a good boy loves me, I’m foolish not to let him, aren’t I?”
Lan Wangji nods. “Mn.”
It is foolish. Wei Wuxian deserves his love. He needs to understand this.
Lan Wangji closes his eyes. “It has been… frightening, at times, to allow someone else to truly see me,” he says. “But there is no else I’d rather show myself to. No one other than Wei Ying.”
“N-no one else has earned it,” Wei Wuxian agrees. The words tumble out shaky and rushed—instinctual, almost. “It’s a privilege, Lan Zhan. Loving you.”
Wei Wuxian has called being with him a privilege before. But this time—this time Lan Wangji fully allows himself to believe it.
Wei Wuxian continues. His breath is quick.
“I’m the only one who has earned it,” he says, voice thick with sudden confidence. “I want to spoil you. Want to give you anything you ask for. Want to show you just how good you are—take care of you like you deserve. Every day, Lan Zhan.”
Every day. Having Wei Wuxian to himself daily sounds far too perfect. Yet, would it be needlessly greedy if he asked for more?
Perhaps. But he’s also certain Wei Wuxian won’t mind one bit. He’ll probably give him that teasing smile and say, softly, “Of course, Lan Zhan.”
For now, Wei Wuxian strokes a gentle hand through Lan Wangji’s hair. A noise of contentment falls from Lan Wangji’s lips. His eyes close, and he sinks into the soft press of Wei Wuxian against him.
As Lan Wangji slips into a shallow rest, he feels a wet cloth slide across his skin, wiping him clean from his earlier exertion. A voice hums a low tune, and Lan Wangji is wrapped in a warm blanket, calm and sated and loved.
That is all that he needs in this slow, gentle moment.
——
Sometimes, when he’s alone, Lan Wangji thinks about that night when he had first dialed those digits that led him to Wei Wuxian.
He remembers sitting rigid at his desk, heart pounding and breath unsteady. Needing so wholly to be told it was alright—alright to allow himself to want, to soften his iron grip on his control and then relish in it.
Yiling—Wei Wuxian—had given Lan Wangji that permission, perhaps in the first word he spoke that night. He had teased him, praised him, ruined him with pleasure. Told him he was good—such a good boy for admitting his desires.
Lan Wangji had ached when he’d first heard those words. Even now, his heart still sings each time they leave Wei Wuxian’s lips.
All his life, Lan Wangji has tampered that shameless, reckless part of himself down. And yet, his control had been no match for Wei Wuxian. It had taken one measly phone call to cut the string that had always held him so tight.
No real good comes from ignoring the truth hidden within oneself.
Lan Wangji has learned this, now. And he is stronger for it.
——
So I probably shouldn’t have procrastinated so much, Lan Zhan…
This scribbled message greets Lan Wangji a few minutes after he places the notebook down for their daily study session on the library’s fifth floor.
Wei Wuxian sits beside him, as always. Today, he too is deep in classwork. Final exams are approaching, and deadlines are piling on top of one another, leaving the entire campus exhausted and stressed.
Lan Wangji has been preparing for these last few weeks of classes since mid-semester.
It is wise to plan ahead. Undue stress can easily be avoided that way. As of the current moment, he has already finished half of his final research projects and has begun to complete practice problem sets for his linear algebra exams. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, is currently buried in a stack of papers and research journals, frantically typing away on his keyboard. Strands of his hair stick up at odd angles, and his brows are furrowed in concentration.
A few days ago, Lan Wangji had asked him if he had started preparing for his final papers and exams, and he had replied, breezily, “Lan Zhan, no need to worry! I do my best work under pressure.”
That is true, perhaps, but Lan Wangji does not enjoy seeing Wei Wuxian so exhausted. The skin underneath his eyes is a purple color—undoubtedly a consequence of several nights of insufficient sleep.
Lan Wangji’s lips purse, taking in Wei Wuxian’s frazzled appearance. This won’t do.
He snatches the notebook from where it sits between them and writes a terse message.
Wei Ying, when did you last eat?
Wei Wuxian reads this and squints, glancing up at the ceiling for a few moments in intense thought. Lan Wangji watches him, and his fist involuntarily clenches. Has it been so long that Wei Wuxian can’t even easily remember?
Wei Wuxian’s scribbled reply only makes his worry worse.
Uh, I think this morning, maybe? I’m pretty sure I had something for breakfast. Like, seventy percent sure…
It is nearing six o’clock. Wei Wuxian has possibly gone at least nine hours without food.
It is impossible to attempt classwork without proper nutrition, Lan Wangji writes. Stay here. I will return with food. You must eat it.
He passes the notebook to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian smiles tentatively as he scans over Lan Wangji’s reply. His eyes dart over to Lan Wangji as he scribbles out a new message.
Lan Zhan is always so sweet and thoughtful. If Lan Zhan buys something for me, I’ll happily eat it, just for him!
Lan Wangji’s eyes close. He should have known this is where the conversation would lead. It is where it always leads with Wei Wuxian: a normal exchange of words, and then, sudden praise until Lan Wangji’s ears flush red.
I will return, Lan Wangji writes, and then he sweeps away, stumbling downstairs to the small library café.
It is dangerous to further indulge in this particular brand of correspondence with Wei Wuxian in public. As much as all of Lan Wangji sings for more, this itch will have to wait until there are no prying eyes.
Calming himself, Lan Wangji purchases a sandwich for Wei Wuxian. It has vegetables, a few cold cuts of meat, and even a small pinch of pepper hidden inside. It will be sufficient nutrition, and Wei Wuxian will also enjoy the taste. Lan Wangji is certain.
When he places it in front of Wei Wuxian minutes later, Wei Wuxian, as if finally realizing how great his hunger is, snatches the sandwich up and devours half of it within a single minute.
Good. Wei Wuxian is pleased with what Lan Wangji chose for him, then. A warm current of satisfaction settles in the pit of Lan Wangji’s stomach.
Will Wei Wuxian call him good, now? He has done well, he thinks. He’s made sure Wei Wuxian is properly cared for—picked out a quick meal that suits his tastes.
Lan Wangji shifts in his seat, waiting.
Slowly, a pair of hands slides the blue notebook towards him. His breath catches.
Lan Zhan, you chose so well. This is exactly what I needed! You’re so good for me. So observant and considerate. I was hungry, and Lan Zhan made sure to take care of me so perfectly.
Such a good boy, don’t you think?
Lan Wangji swallows. As always, Wei Wuxian is far too dangerous. But, Lan Wangji craves this thrill. He can admit this to himself quite easily now. Still, he grips his pencil tightly as he scratches out a response.
Wei Ying needed to eat. I noticed this and acted, he writes. It is true.
A second ticks by. Lan Wangji doesn’t immediately slide the notebook back over to Wei Wuxian. Instead, he adds another two more sentences—an extremely shameless string of words.
Two can play at the game Wei Wuxian has started.
If Wei Ying is certain I am good, surely he has prepared a reward for me, then? To be offered once he completes his coursework, of course.
There. An incentive for Wei Wuxian to no longer indulge his habit of procrastination.
Wei Wuxian’s lips jut out in a pout as he reads the words. Huffing, he scribbles a reply onto the open page.
Lan Zhan!! You’re so clever. Using my own words against me… You know how badly I want to reward you, don’t you? Fine then! I promise I’ll finish my work. Just for Lan Zhan.
Wei Wuxian then proceeds to complete an entire ten-page term paper in the span of three hours. When he finishes, he taps Lan Wangji’s shoulder, eyes shining with mischief. He pushes the notebook toward Lan Wangji, a fresh sentence written on its open page.
Would my good Lan Zhan check over my paper for me? I want to make sure it’s up to a high standard in order to give Lan Zhan his reward…
The request is shameless, but Lan Wangji, as always, cannot help but go along. He slides Wei Wuxian’s laptop toward himself and settles down to read.
Wei Wuxian’s writing is—almost impeccable. Each point is emphasized with far more flourish than Lan Wangji would prefer, but the connections between topics are tight and logical. There is little to criticize, save for a few minor grammatical errors where Lan Wangji is certain Wei Wuxian’s thoughts had slipped just a bit ahead of his typing. Lan Wangji corrects those mistakes quickly and returns the computer to Wei Wuxian.
A few moments pass, and the blue notebook slides toward him.
Wei Wuxian has written a singular sentence.
Was it alright?
Surely Wei Wuxian is aware of how satisfactory his writing is. It’s plain to see for anyone who reads what he’s written.
There were only a few minor errors to correct. Your argument was clear and logical. Nothing further to change. You should be proud.
Lan Wangji passes the notebook back. Wei Wuxian grabs it eagerly, breaking into a grin when he glances down at the page.
Lan Wangji’s chest goes warm. It’s one thing to simply see Wei Wuxian smile. It’s quite another to be the cause of it.
As if he can hear Lan Wangji’s thoughts, Wei Wuxian looks up and fixes his gaze on Lan Wangji. He leans to the side, a gleam of trouble in eyes.
Hot breath dances across Lan Wangji’s ear and then—
“Ah, so Lan Zhan is proud of me then? You looked over my work so diligently. Such a sweet boy.”
Lan Wangji shivers.
Wei Wuxian is once again breaking the rules of the fifth floor simply to pester him. Yet, Lan Wangji truly does not mind having the low, teasing sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice in his ear. He has not minded for a while.
“Guess it’s alright to tell my good boy what his reward is, hm?”
Fingers gripping his thigh, Lan Wangji nods. It won’t do to be greedy for Wei Wuxian’s more intimate attention—not in public like this. He must control himself.
Satisfied with flustering Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian grins, leaning away to once again pick up the notebook.
Your reward has two parts, Lan Zhan. Since you’ve been awfully perfect for me! Are you curious? Hm?
Lan Wangji is curious.
Two parts? he writes.
There’s a glint in Wei Wuxian’s eyes as he scrawls out a long response and slides it over to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji feels his skin flush.
Yep, two parts, Lan Zhan! Hehehe…
Wei Wuxian has drawn a winking face in the margins to accompany his words. Lan Wangji’s lips twitch. He reads on.
The first part is this: I talked to my sister and brother a few days ago about bringing you over for a meal. They both really want to meet you, Lan Zhan! And I really want to show you off to them, too…
They’ll love you. I’m sure of it! Well, my brother’s a little emotionally constipated, so he probably won’t show anything outright. But still!
We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, Lan Zhan. No need to worry if you don’t feel like going. I’m just passing on the invitation!!
It’s—quite a bit to process. Wei Wuxian, too, wishes to share him with his family members, and those same family members have expressed interest in meeting Lan Wangji in turn.
He wants to meet the people Wei Wuxian holds dear.
It’s truly a proper reward in its own right. Lan Wangji is certain of that.
Pulling the notebook toward himself, he writes his answer, assuring Wei Wuxian that he is perfectly willing—even excited—to accept such an invitation.
Wei Ying’s concern is unnecessary. I would love to meet your family, as you have met mine.
Wei Wuxian stares down at the notebook for almost a full minute after Lan Wangji passes it to him. His teeth worry his lower lip, and he stays oddly still.
It’s almost as if he can’t quite believe what he’s reading.
Lan Wangji has written the truth, though. Wei Wuxian should know this.
Quietly, he shifts forward to place his palm over the back of Wei Wuxian’s hand. Wei Wuxian trembles, just a bit, when their skin meets. Lan Wangji squeezes his hand—a gesture of comfort, of reassurance.
Do not forget that I am in love with you, Wei Ying, he hopes to say through this action. That I want to know you. In every new way that I can.
Wei Wuxian turns his head to face him.
Their gazes catch and hold.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes are full of warmth. This man—he burns. Burns for Lan Wangji alone.
Lan Wangji swallows. It is almost too much to have such intensity directed at him. Yet, he has long learned to relish this particular brand of attention from Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian is focused solely on him—no one else gets to see the tenderness in his expression.
The dark, possessive part of Lan Wangji preens.
Underneath Lan Wangji’s grasp, Wei Wuxian's palm twitches, and in a burst of movement, he traps Lan Wangji’s hand in his own grip and brings it to his lips, slowly.
His eyes never leave Lan Wangji.
Not even when he presses a soft kiss to the back of Lan Wangji’s palm.
Not even when his tongue darts out for a brief moment to taste Lan Wangji’s skin.
Now, Lan Wangji is the one who trembles.
Still watching him, Wei Wuxian pulls back, smirking and satisfied.
Shameless. Wonderful.
Lan Wangji has fallen for a man who wears contradictions like a second skin. He does not mind, though. Not one bit.
Mercifully, Wei Wuxian turns back to the desk and pulls the notebook toward him, allowing Lan Wangji a few necessary moments to calm himself.
Seconds pass, Lan Wangji steadies his breathing, and then—
Lan Zhan, you’re too wonderful. I couldn’t help but worry a little bit that you might be uncomfortable meeting my siblings, but you’ve reassured me so effectively. So effortlessly, even, that I had to kiss you just a little bit…
I like you, Lan Zhan. So much.
Would you like me to tell you about your second reward before we find ourselves sidetracked again? Not that I mind being sidetracked…
Wei Wuxian truly never slows down. Lan Wangji closes his eyes, counts to three, and writes a response.
Please, tell me about my second reward, Wei Ying.
There’s a sly smile when the notebook is passed to him a minute later.
Well, Lan Zhan’s second reward is… whatever he wants it to be!
I would like for you to think of a desire—something you would like me to do to you, something you’ve been yearning for but we haven’t done together yet. It’s good to think about your desires, Lan Zhan. I love giving you what you truly need. What you crave.
Tell me. It doesn’t have to be now. Think it over.
A mess of thoughts immediately rushes through Lan Wangji’s mind. If he truly allows himself to think about everything he wants, it will be… dangerous. As with anything involving Wei Wuxian, once he’s had a taste, he will always want more.
A memory flashes—him, sweaty and panting with pleasure, and Wei Wuxian murmuring in his ear, “We’ll have to buy something for your neck too, I think. So that everyone knows you belong to me.”
Lan Wangji touches the bare skin of his throat. He shivers. There’s nothing wrapped around his neck. Not yet.
That needs to be remedied.
——
Later that night, Lan Wangji finds himself a bit overwhelmed as he scrolls through page after page of collars and chokers.
The website he is currently browsing has a true mix of styles—spiky, bulky collars, bands of silk with bells, and simple, belt-like chokers. Lan Wangji stares, fingers hovering over the mouse-pad.
One particular collar catches his eye: soft, light-blue, and leather. A small circular piece of metal rests in the center, and immediately, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and wonders how it would feel pressed against his throat.
He swallows.
Wei Wuxian thinks something like this will suit him. He’s said so—a dark, perfect whisper in Lan Wangji’s ear.
Lan Wangji thinks—thinks it will suit himself, too.
Perhaps, after Wei Wuxian helps him into the collar, he might… slip his fingers beneath the leather and tug—just a little bit? Tug hard enough to let Lan Wangji sink into the sensation of something wrapped around his throat, claiming him.
Lan Wangji’s fingers drift up to slide across the flushed skin at his neck.
He wants. He’s allowed to have, now.
With a decisive click of a button, Lan Wangji buys the collar.
He ships it to Wei Wuxian’s off-campus apartment.
——
Now that he has purchased such an intimate product, Lan Wangji must inform Wei Wuxian before the package arrives mysteriously at his doorstep. Their schedules, however, do not align for the next few days due to exams, so Lan Wangji, unfortunately, must resort to notifying him over text.
This particular day, Wei Wuxian has already sent him several messages in succession complaining about the final exam for his philosophy class. He’s reached a point where his complaints keep circling back to each other, so Lan Wangji decides it is an adequate time to shift the conversation to another topic.
He types out a text and holds his breath.
Wei Ying.
I recently bought an item and had it sent to your address.
You will most likely receive it in five days.
Regrettably, there had been no option for express shipping on the website. This way, though, the anticipation can build—for both himself and Wei Wuxian.
A reply comes within the minute.
Wei Ying
WHATT omg
lan zhan!! what did you buy??
i’m so curioussss ;)
Lan Wangji waits. More texts pile up.
tell me?
please?
lan zhannnn ;-;
His lips twitch upward. Perhaps there is no need to drag out the suspense if Wei Wuxian is already so eager.
Swallowing, he scrolls through his camera roll, selects a screenshot of the collar, and then sends the photo to Wei Wuxian.
Here.
[image attached]
Almost instantaneously, Lan Wangji’s phone buzzes several times in succession.
Wei Ying
AKFSJDHJS
!!!!
LAN ZHANN !!!!
my brain just EXPLODED
i hope you’re happy :(((
A warm lick of satisfaction burns low in the pit of Lan Wangji’s stomach. Wei Wuxian is obviously pleased with his choice.
I did not intend to cause any harm to you by sending this.
Wei Ying
omg lan zhannn
are you teasing??
you’ve gotten so good at it !!
Lan Wangji fights back the smirk that has found its way to his lips. It is not courteous to be so smug. He cannot help but send another text, though—a small provocation he’s sure Wei Wuxian will enjoy.
Have I?
Wei Ying
i bet your mouth is doing that /thing/ right now
that tiny little pleased SMIRK !!
you think nobody can tell lan zhan :((
but I totally can !!
As usual, Wei Wuxian sees through him. Letting out a tiny chuckle, Lan Wangji types out a reply.
I’m unsure as to which expression you are referring.
I have far too many.
Wei Ying
o_O
comedic genius lan zhan??
he’s been hiding his talents??
Perhaps.
Some things are only reserved for a privileged few.
Wei Ying
am i special lan zhan?
am i special to you? ;)
Wei Wuxian, as usual, is immediately running as far as he can with the opening that Lan Wangji has given him.
Although Lan Wangji is still wholly unused to this type of interaction, it’s a thrill, truly, to converse with someone so quick, so attuned to what phrases will fluster him.
He wants…
He wants to fluster Wei Wuxian too.
So, he chooses his next words carefully.
You are special, Wei Ying.
Otherwise, I would not have made this purchase.
After the text is delivered, an entire minute passes. Lan Wangji waits, heart beating fast.
Finally, his phone vibrates.
Wei Ying
………
…..
…hmmm
since lan zhan is so thoughtful
we’ll have to make good use of his purchase
Heat licks up Lan Wangji’s spine. He shivers, holding his phone in a tight grip.
Wei Wuxian’s words are a promise—one that Lan Wangji desperately hopes will be fulfilled.
If he’s good, he’s certain it will be.
——
It’s a bit funny—the reason why Lan Wangji finds himself standing outside Wei Wuxian’s off-campus apartment a week later.
Officially, he is there for dinner with Wei Wuxian’s siblings.
It is best to present oneself with polish when making a first impression, so Lan Wangji has dressed himself in his favorite sky blue dress shirt. His brother has always told him that the color suits him. He agrees.
Unofficially—and just the thought brings a flush to his ears—Lan Wangji is there, along with Wei Wuxian, to retrieve the… collar. It had arrived two days prior, and Wei Wuxian had shamelessly suggested to arrange a dinner at his apartment and then open the package together afterwards.
It is wholly embarrassing, yet Lan Wangji cannot help the thrill that runs through him at the thought of Wei Wuxian soon whispering sweet words in his ear as he gently wraps the collar around his—
No. Now is not the time to distract himself with fantasy, no matter how tempting.
Instead, Lan Wangji forces himself to swallow a gulp of air. Once settled, he raises his knuckles to the door and knocks three times in quick succession.
Heart fluttering, he waits, knowing that in a matter of moments, he will come face to face with the people that mean the most to Wei Wuxian.
He must not disappoint.
With a creak, the door finally swings open, and a woman dressed in a pale shade of lilac peeks outside. She glances up at Lan Wangji, freezes for a moment, and then smiles.
Her smile reminds Lan Wangji of his brother’s smile—half-hardened steel lurking beneath a soft surface.
This must be Wei Wuxian’s sister.
Lan Wangji opens his mouth to speak, but before he can form any words, she steps aside, beckoning him inside.
“Come inside. Let’s get you out of the cold,” she says, holding the door open. “I’m Jiang Yanli. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Xianxian has told me a lot about you.”
Lan Wangji obediently shuffles inside. He sincerely hopes that Wei Wuxian has told her the abridged version of their initial acquaintance.
Caught in his thoughts, he almost forgets to reply.
“Thank you for the welcome,” he says, finally, removing his shoes and coat. “My name is Lan Wangji.”
Jiang Yanli watches him, hands clasped at her waist. Her gaze is sharp yet gentle as he folds up his scarf into a neat bundle. Again, her expression reminds him of his brother.
She laughs softly, and the tension seeps from his body.
“It’s nice to have someone so conscientious visit. Xianxian always forgets to properly put his things away when he comes through the door.”
Lan Wangji has also noticed this habit. Every time he’s had Wei Wuxian over, he will inevitably wake up to several pieces of clothing scattered around his room.
It is satisfying, though, to see Wei Wuxian’s things mixed with his own. It scratches the possessive itch inside himself that seems to always surface.
“Mn,” he agrees. “I’ve found that reminders work well, however.”
Jiang Yanli nods. “They do. Sounds like you’ve got him figured out!”
Lan Wangji shakes his head, embarrassed. His ears are warm.
From further inside, a voice—Wei Wuxian’s voice—shouts, “Jiejie, is Lan Zhan here? Why didn’t you say? I wanted to greet him too!”
Lan Wangji is uncertain if he sees it correctly, but he is almost certain that Jiang Yanli holds her hand to her mouth as if she’s stifling a laugh.
“I’m bringing him to you now!” she answers.
Jiang Yanli leads Lan Wangji towards the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice. Together, they navigate through a maze-like hallway and emerge in a small living room decorated in soft shades of purple.
Wei Wuxian and a man Lan Wangji has never seen before are sitting on the sofa. When the man’s gaze flits to Lan Wangji, he scowls and folds his arms across his chest.
Such unnecessary bluster.
Yet—
This man must truly care for Wei Wuxian if he is driven to perform such rituals of intimidation in the presence of a guest. Lan Wangji can acknowledge this truth.
He inclines his head in greeting. Civilly.
Wei Wuxian springs up from the sofa in a burst of movement, shouting Lan Wangji’s name. The cushions crinkle in his wake, and the unfamiliar man looks unhappy at the disarray.
Lan Wangji fights back the sliver of a smirk that threatens to cross his lips.
Luckily, Wei Wuxian is there to distract him from any potentially improper behavior.
“Wei Ying,” he greets.
Wei Wuxian grins, and warmth shoots up Lan Wangji’s spine. Just the sight of him, a single utterance of his name, and he’s already…
Perhaps this dinner will be even more difficult than he anticipated.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, shifting closer. “Jiejie’s made us her famous lotus root and pork rib soup tonight. I promise I haven’t been exaggerating how amazing it is!”
Jiang Yanli sighs fondly. “No need to make such a fuss! I hope you boys will all enjoy it.”
Wei Wuxian lets out an exaggerated gasp, feigning shock. “Jiejie, how could you insinuate that we wouldn’t enjoy it?”
A throat clears, harsh and loud.
“Ah.” A sheepish expression crosses Wei Wuxian’s face. “I forgot to introduce you two!”
He loops an arm around the scowling man on the sofa and drags him up and into the center of the room.
“This grumpy boy—”
The man makes an affronted noise. His frown deepens.
Wei Wuxian’s smirk widens. He shares a conspiratorial glance with Lan Wangji. “Sorry. Must have misspoken. This—friendly man you see before you is Jiang Cheng. My brother!”
Jiang Cheng.
Lan Wangji’s mind flashes to a cracked door, to a music room hallway, to an annoyed shout of this same name from Wei Wuxian’s own voice.
It had been the first time he’d heard his voice outside their phone calls.
He remembers the fear—how he’d shook, how he’d fled.
It is a bit surreal that he now stands in Wei Wuxian’s home, putting a face to the name whose utterance had caused such panic within him.
Coming back to himself, Lan Wangji offers his own name in response. He tries not to appear too distracted. He’s unsure if he succeeds.
Jiang Cheng looks him up and down, eyes narrowed, and says, “Hm. Wouldn’t have thought you’d bring home someone like this.”
How very blunt.
Wei Wuxian nudges Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “I hope that’s a compliment, Jiang Cheng!”
Then, his gaze shifts to Lan Wangji and he says, shamelessly, “You’re right, though… Lan Zhan is really too good for me.”
“Oh for the love of—” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. It looks like an extremely practiced motion. “Please save it for private! Let’s just… sit down and eat.”
Jiang Yanli promptly ushers them to the dining room table.
Plopping down in seats across from each other, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng continue to bicker in hushed voices. Lan Wangji watches, unsure if it is an advisable time to join them.
He would prefer not to interrupt.
Luckily, Jiang Yanli kindly whisks him away from the dining room, requesting his help in the kitchen. He is given the task of ladling out sufficient portions of soup for the four of them.
As Lan Wangji fills each bowl, the aroma of the broth drifts through the air. It smells unfairly delicious.
“May I ask for your recipe?” he says, once finished.
Jiang Yanli smiles. “Of course. As thanks for your wonderful help!”
He inclines his head, embarrassed.
“I’m grateful.”
He is grateful, truly. Grateful to take a reminder of this experience with him when he leaves. Grateful to perhaps be able to comfort Wei Wuxian with the taste of home when he is in need of it.
——
Once the meal begins, conversation flows easily.
Again, when asked how they first met, he and Wei Wuxian tell the story of their encounter in the library. Certain extraneous details must obviously be omitted.
“I bet that was extremely difficult for you,” Jiang Cheng remarks, in the middle of the explanation. “Being forced into silence for so long. And here I thought you were incapable of shutting up…”
Wei Wuxian laughs. “Like you can’t go five minutes without rolling your eyes or glaring!”
Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to retort, realizes he is, in fact, already scowling, and then huffs petulantly, sinking down in his seat.
Across the table, Jiang Yanli appears to be stifling laughter.
Gentle warmth envelopes Lan Wangji’s heart as he sits, quiet, observing the busy scene before him. He slips his hand under the table, searching for Wei Wuxian’s palm. Finding it, he entwines their fingers together.
Right.
This feeling, this person, this moment—it feels right.
And that is all he needs.
——
Later, after Lan Wangji has assisted Jiang Yanli with washing the dishes and survived an impromptu one-way glaring contest with Jiang Cheng, he finds himself standing—finally—in Wei Wuxian’s room.
The space is a bit untidy, but this is as expected. Unlike Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian is not someone who finds comfort in order. Naturally, his living space reflects this. A floor-length mirror casually leans against a bookshelf in the corner, and next to it, a precarious pile of clothes tilts sideways on top of a chair.
The bed, though, is pristine. As planned, a package rests there, unassuming.
Inside, is—
Lan Wangji’s fingers ghost across the skin of his throat.
He is eager. Far too eager for this.
The desire to tear open the box’s wrappings like a feral beast coils up inside him. He does not give in, though.
He must control himself. At least, until he’s given proper permission to abandon his restraint.
Luckily, someone is quite willing to give him that permission.
Stroking his hand across the top of the box, Wei Wuxian smiles. Dark promise hides beneath the innocent curl of his lips. Lan Wangji feels it in his heart—feels it in lungs when his breath leaves him for a brief moment.
He lowers his gaze to the floor. It is safer that way.
“Lan Zhan, I’ve kept this all wrapped up just for you.” His voice has slipped into that awful, wonderful tone that enchanted Lan Wangji all those months ago.
“You were such a good boy, you know? Ordering this all on your own and allowing me to keep it here.”
Lan Wangji shivers. He cannot bring himself to look directly at Wei Wuxian. Not now. Not when doing so would cause him to shake apart with want.
“Hm? You’ll have to use your words, Lan Zhan. How else will I know if you realize how good you are?”
Swallowing, Lan Wangji says, “I understand. That I am good.”
Heat rushes to his ears. Embarrassment is hard to avoid when he is forced to respond to praise like this, and Wei Wuxian is simply too skilled at flustering him. He knows it, too. Lan Wangji is certain he will see a satisfied smirk resting on Wei Wuxian’s lips if he lifts his head.
“I’m glad Lan Zhan understands,” Wei Wuxian says. “Want to come closer and help me unwrap this?”
Lan Wangji wants.
He pads over to the bed—to the place where Wei Wuxian sits.
The air in the room has grown warm. It sits heavy, pressing down on his shoulders as he reaches out to steal the box from Wei Wuxian’s hands.
In the midst of the exchange, their fingertips brush. A low buzz of electricity shocks through Lan Wangji at the contact, startling him.
It is something so small, yet why—
Ah.
He and Wei Wuxian have had to remain a respectable distance apart all afternoon. Now, his traitorous body must be starved for touch.
It is shameful, really—how he craves the softness of Wei Wuxian’s fingers pressed against his skin, soothing him, thrilling him.
Is Wei Wuxian’s longing much the same?
Yes, is the answer whispered into the crescent of his palm as gentle lips leave a trail of tiny kisses across his knuckles.
“Go on, Lan Zhan,” is the command that floats through the air. “Open it. It’s alright to be eager.”
Lan Wangji swallows. His hands hover over the top of the box.
“Good boy. You’re almost there.”
Good. He’s being good—
Lan Wangji rips the folds of cardboard apart with a single hand. Wei Wuxian whistles in approval.
“So strong, Lan Zhan.”
Receiving compliments simply for successfully opening a package is… wholly unwarranted. Yet, Lan Wangji basks in the gentleness of Wei Wuxian’s words, lets them sink low, lets them whisper to his soul.
He rummages through the layers of tissue paper obscuring the item inside from view. One piece, two, three, four, and then—
The collar is revealed.
Lan Wangji’s breath catches. Beside him, Wei Wuxian shifts. He lifts his hands to Lan Wangji’s throat, tracing the place where the collar will inevitably rest.
It is then that Lan Wangji truly understands. He and Wei Wuxian—they are both beasts, ravenous for the comfort of closeness, hungry enough to stake their claim on one another with something so tangible.
“This will suit you so well,” whispers Wei Wuxian. The warmth of his breath sends scattered sensations down Lan Wangji’s spine. “Such a lovely blue color, hm?”
Lan Wangji nods—a motion far too jerky for his liking. He knows Wei Wuxian will notice his stiffness, knows it will thrill him immensely to induce such a reaction with so little said.
“Simple, yet elegant. Just like my Lan Zhan.”
Wei Wuxian hums.
“It’s going to look perfect wrapped around your throat. Like it belongs there. Like it’s always belonged there.”
Lan Wangji feels the weight of Wei Wuxian’s words inside his heart. They echo, then ignite.
“I want it,” he whispers. “Please.”
“You want what, Lan Zhan? There are a lot of things I can give you,” Wei Wuxian answers, voice laced with promise. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Shameless. As always.
Gathering himself, Lan Wangji clarifies. “The collar. I would—like the collar.” His words ring loud in the quiet of the room.
Wei Wuxian smiles, slow and curling. There is a glint in his eyes. A glint that Lan Wangji knows.
Trouble is coming. The best kind.
“Ah, the collar,” Wei Wuxian says, obviously aware of Lan Wangji’s meaning but pretending otherwise. He reaches into the box.
“Here it is, Lan Zhan. You don’t want to just look at it, though. Surely not?”
No, Lan Wangji does not simply wish to stare. Yet, he is frozen—frozen at the sight of the collar resting in Wei Wuxian’s hand, undone and hanging over the edges of his palm. He wants—needs—to feel the softness of the blue leather, the cool bite of metal pressed against his skin. He is certain, though, that he must ask for it. It will not be simply given to him.
Good boys clearly state their desires. How else, then, can they be fulfilled?
“I…” he begins. “I would like Wei Ying to wrap the collar around my throat. I want to wear it.”
Wei Wuxian sucks in an audible breath. “You’re asking so nicely, Lan Zhan,” he says. His voice has dropped to a lower register, and Lan Wangji feels the sound roll through him. “How can I deny you?”
Trying to restrain himself from begging, Lan Wangji grips the bedsheets with his fist. The fabric twists into a messy tangle.
This action does not go unnoticed.
“No need for that, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says softly, covering Lan Wangji’s palm with his free hand. “I’ll give you what you want. You’ll just have to be patient, hm?”
Patient. Lan Wangji can be patient.
He swallows. Bites the inside of his cheek. Waits.
Wei Wuxian leans close. His lips brush against the shell of Lan Wangji’s ear. “Can you kneel for me, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji slips off the bed, knees hitting the floor almost as soon as the words leave Wei Wuxian’s mouth. He’s simple—far too simple.
“Good,” Wei Wuxian says, and the word sends a shiver through Lan Wangji.
“Want to know a secret, Lan Zhan?” he continues. “We’re the only ones here now. Jiejie and Jiang Cheng left to run some errands. They won’t be back for a while.”
So he and Wei Wuxian are alone. Because of errands. Oddly well-timed errands.
Under different circumstances, Lan Wangji might question Wei Wuxian further, but he is already far too adrift in the pleasant haze of submission to devote much thought to investigation. Instead, he sinks further back onto his heels and waits, trying not to be too aware of the bareness of his throat.
Still, Lan Wangji can feel impatience creeping beneath his skin. He wants the collar. He bought it himself, even, so why—why has Wei Wuxian not yet given it to him?
He surely deserves it. He’s been good, after all.
Sitting on the bed, Wei Wuxian cocks his head, humming. His mouth curls into a smirk, and Lan Wangji’s heart flutters.
He cannot look away, not when Wei Wuxian stares at him like that—like he might devour him whole.
“I have my good Lan Zhan all to myself now,” he says. “And I’m going to take such perfect care of him.”
“Please,” Lan Wangji says, the word slipping out, unbidden.
From above, Wei Wuxian licks his lips. His eyes are dark, blown entirely black. Their intensity knocks the breath from Lan Wangji’s lungs. It’s a heady thing: the knowledge that he can inspire such tightly coiled desire within this man.
“I thought about it, you know? How this might go.” Wei Wuxian reaches out. Places a hand on the crown of Lan Wangji’s head. Threads gentle fingers through his hair. “How you’d look on your knees, begging to be collared.”
Oh god.
Lan Wangji whines, unconcerned with letting out such a needy noise. How can he be expected to maintain control when provoked by such shameless words?
The fingers drift down the side of Lan Wangji’s face. They brush at the seam of his lips, questioning.
With an exhale, Lan Wangji parts his mouth—lets Wei Wuxian slip his fingers inside.
“I never imagined, though,” Wei Wuxian says, voice almost a whisper. “That you’d look so flushed, so perfect.”
Whimpering softly, Lan Wangji allows his jaw to go slack. He lets himself suck, lets himself taste the salt of Wei Wuxian’s skin.
His eyes flicker shut. Fog rolls into his mind, but it is welcome. He is safe like this—with Wei Wuxian’s fingers pressing down against his tongue, gentle and warm.
Next to him, there is a choked off gasp. “I—” Wei Wuxian begins, trailing off as if he cannot quite grasp the right words. His fingers twitch inside Lan Wangji’s mouth. “Y-you trust me so much, Lan Zhan.”
Yes. Lan Wangji does trust Wei Wuxian—has trusted him ever since that first phone call, perhaps. He would not bare his soul like this for another if he felt discomfort.
Lan Wangji nods, wanting Wei Wuxian to understand this. Almost as soon as he finishes the motion, lips brush against his forehead.
“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian whispers his name like it is something precious, as if each syllable deserves its own special reverence.
Lan Wangji wants to respond—wants to remind Wei Wuxian that there is no need to go so far. He is one insignificant man. He is not entitled to receive such veneration.
Yet, the gentle whisper of his name lingers in the air, and his lips stay still.
Perhaps… perhaps his name might deserve to be something precious. He’d hidden it, after all. He’d been ashamed to associate such indecent desires with his true self during all those phone calls.
Now, though, he has left his alias behind and learned to feel comfort in the weight of himself and his desires.
So, perhaps it is alright to let Wei Wuxian utter his true name in that soft, reverent rumble.
Wei Wuxian must sense the barrage of thoughts careening through Lan Wangji’s mind because he taps the side of Lan Wangji’s head and says, low and teasing, “Things are loud up here right now, aren’t they? Don’t worry, Lan Zhan. I’ll help make it quiet for you.”
Quiet? Lan Wangji doubts that will be the immediate effect of whatever Wei Wuxian has planned next. He quickly is proven right.
“Are you ready for your collar?”
Lan Wangji shivers. He slowly tilts his head back, baring his neck for Wei Wuxian to see. He’s ready, he’s been ready, he needs—
“Please. I—Green, Wei Ying.”
He cannot even speak.
Wei Wuxian smiles, slow and giddy, looking far too satisfied with himself for reducing Lan Wangji to such a desperate state with almost no direct touches. Of course, he is practiced at such a skill—he’s ruined Lan Wangji so many times using only his voice.
It’s embarrassing, really. But… Lan Wangji doesn’t mind it. He truly doesn’t.
Finally, Wei Wuxian lifts the collar up, up, up to the flushed skin of Lan Wangji’s throat.
The band fits closely around his neck, and Lan Wangji welcomes the snugness. The sensation grounds him, forces him remember that it is alright to let go, to relinquish the tight grip he has on his self-control.
When he wears this collar, Wei Wuxian will—
“—take care of you, Lan Zhan. I’ll give you everything. Everything you need.”
The promise falls like silk upon Lan Wangji’s ears. He whimpers, unable to stop the noise from escaping. His body no longer feels like his body. It is more a strange, tangled mass of feeling and desperation and love.
In the space of a breath, the collar is fastened, and with it, the last shard of Lan Wangji’s restraint shatters.
He trembles, pushing forward, begging for touch, begging to be—
Claimed.
“Look at you,” is the gentle whisper against the curve of his neck. Two fingers hook into the collar’s loop.
The pressure sends a sweeping ache through Lan Wangji’s chest, sinking into his heart. He’s cherished, isn’t he? He has Wei Wuxian’s collar around his neck, after all.
It is illogical to desire physical proof of affection when so much is conveyed through action and feeling alone, yet the weight of the collar feels like—
Home.
It feels like home.
“Lan Zhan is so lovely in blue. Such a good boy deserves such a pretty color—don’t you agree?”
Lan Wangji knows Wei Wuxian expects him to give some sort of reply, but his thoughts are running far too sluggishly for coherent speech. A weak ‘mn’ is all he can manage in response.
“Oh dear,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, sounding far too satisfied. “Sounds like my perfect boy is so pleased to be wearing my collar around his neck. You’ve melted for me, Lan Zhan. Gone so sweet and soft, and we’ve barely even started…”
Too much. Wei Wuxian’s words are, as always, too much to bear, yet exactly what Lan Wangji needs to hear. He quivers, acutely aware of the leather around his neck and the sharp eyes watching him from the bed.
Wei Wuxian pats the space next to him. “Would you join me up here?” he asks.
Nodding, Lan Wangji rises on unsteady legs. He staggers forward, ears red, until his knees knock against the mattress.
A hand gently reaches out and guides him down to the sheets.
“Let me,” says Wei Wuxian. With a focused stare, he begins to undo the buttons of Lan Wangji’s shirt and pants. Much too eager, Lan Wangji assists in the process, shrugging off his clothes as soon as they loosen.
Then, the collar is all that remains. The leather presses against his bare skin, and he swallows.
Wei Wuxian, too, has slipped out of his clothes.
“Lan Zhan,” he whispers into the shell of Lan Wangji’s ear, crowding closer. “You’re so brave, letting me undress you until there’s almost nothing left.”
“Not… brave,” Lan Wangji finds himself murmuring. He tilts his head down, away from Wei Wuxian’s gaze.
He is merely letting himself be guided by another, letting himself reveal his uncovered skin. Is it truly something so courageous?
“It is brave, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian cups Lan Wangji’s cheeks in his palms. For a brief second, Lan Wangji feels almost like a scolded child. “Baring yourself for someone else is an act of fearlessness. Of trust.”
A ball of warmth forms in the pit of Lan Wangji’s stomach. He cannot refute such sincere words. Not when they feel like a balm to his soul.
“I have a reward for your courage, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, curling his fingers underneath the collar once again. “But first, you need to answer one question for me.”
Lan Wangji makes a soft noise of acknowledgement. He waits, heart pounding a wild rhythm.
Slowly, Wei Wuxian lowers his mouth next to Lan Wangji’s ear and whispers, “How would you like me to fuck you?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Lan Wangji closes his eyes.
Shameless.
So frustratingly, wonderfully shameless.
“Would you like to be face down with me pressed against you from behind, hooking one hand around your collar and the other around your cock? I’ll fill you up so well. I promise.”
“Or…” Wei Wuxian continues, resting his hand upon Lan Wangji’s bare thigh. The touch is light, yet it burns in the best way.
“I can have you in my lap. I’ll sink you down on my cock all nice and slow. Then, when you’re whining for more, I’ll finally reach around and pump you, as fast or slow as I see fit. I’m sure you’ll be so eager and leaking, Lan Zhan. I can make it good—so good for you.”
Lan Wangji trembles against the sheets, unmoored. Both options present enticing scenarios, but instinct does not allow him much time to ponder a decision.
“Wei Ying,” he says, voice catching. “I—I would like the second option. Please.”
Wei Wuxian hums. “Good choice.”
A slow, dangerous grin crooks at the corner of his lips. “Actually, there’s one additional component to that scenario. If Lan Zhan is eager to know.”
Carefully unfurling his arm, he points across the room—to the standing mirror. The same one Lan Wangji had noticed upon entering. The same one that, now that he is truly looking, gives a clear view of the bed, and in turn, Lan Wangji himself.
Oh dear.
Lan Wangji shifts, impulsively trying to cover his naked skin. It is… uncomfortable to stare at his image in the reflection. He has never watched himself like this—never looked to a mirror and seen such a shameless, pleasure-drunk twin staring back.
The collar rests like a beacon at the center of his throat. He reaches up, up, up, to brush his fingers against the leather.
“Beautiful,” Wei Wuxian whispers.
Lan Wangji’s breath stutters.
Is it alright to listen to Wei Wuxian? To ignore that voice inside himself that still taunts, indecent, improper?
In the mirror, Wei Wuxian hovers behind him, a soft, tender emotion in his eyes that Lan Wangji struggles to name. He embraces Lan Wangji from behind, careful and gentle, and then, then, it is clear.
Proud. Wei Wuxian is proud of him.
Lan Wangji should not give in to embarrassment, for that would be a disservice to both the trust he has placed in Wei Wuxian and the trust Wei Wuxian has placed in him.
Allowing the last bits of tension to drain from his limbs, he sinks back into the fold of Wei Wuxian’s arms, into his lap.
“That’s it, Lan Zhan.” A soft kiss against his temple, a nip to his ear that makes him whine. “Let me take care of you.”
“Wei Ying,” he says—a plea, an adoration.
Pressed against Wei Wuxian, every part of Lan Wangji sings with heat. He is balancing on the edge of that familiar precipice, slipping further into the pleasant haze that always follows such a descent.
As promised, Wei Wuxian soon has three fingers inside him. Lan Wangji sinks into the feeling of fullness, eyes sliding shut.
“No, Lan Zhan,” is the gentle reprimand that follows. “Look.”
Lan Wangji brings his attention back to the mirror. He and Wei Wuxian lock eyes in the reflection.
With a smirk, Wei Wuxian slowly shifts. The world stills as Lan Wangji watches one hand come around and hook underneath his collar. The other curls at his hip—a claim just as strong.
An exhale—then Wei Wuxian’s cock presses inside him. Lan Wangji promptly falls apart. He trembles, cries out, struggles to keep looking at the mirror.
He wants to be good. Wants to do as Wei Wuxian told him. But the sweet pressure of Wei Wuxian inside him drives all rational thought from his mind.
Finally, finally—Wei Wuxian wraps a hand around his cock, and a whimper falls from his lips. Instinctively, his hips rise to meet the sweet pressure of Wei Wuxian’s fingertips.
“Lan Zhan is so hungry for it,” Wei Wuxian murmurs against the shell of his ear. “Good.”
Lan Wangji trembles. The words are true. He is a starving man, satiated only by a whisper of praise and a collar around his neck.
“F-faster,” he begs, breathless. Tonight, it is alright to be a bit selfish.
Wei Wuxian wants him to express his desires, after all.
“Faster?” Wei Wuxian repeats. “I’ll speed up since Lan Zhan has asked so nicely. But, in return, Lan Zhan must not forget to look at the mirror.”
Like a moth guided to a flame, Lan Wangji’s gaze again snaps to his reflection.
He can see everything—his pitifully leaking cock, the sharp glint in Wei Wuxian’s eyes as he watches.
It is too much.
Teasing him, Wei Wuxian begins pumping faster. Lan Wangji struggles to stay still, pushing up, up, up into the tight grip around him. Whines escape from his throat, and he begs, begs for Wei Wuxian to let him come.
Control has left him—utterly.
Wei Wuxian bites the edge of his jaw. Voice rough, he whispers, “I love watching you let go, Lan Zhan. You’re perfect.”
“I want—want…” Lan Wangji says, unable to form a coherent sentence. “P-please.”
He manages to turn his gaze to the mirror once more, desperate. Staring at the collar wrapped around his throat and Wei Wuxian’s flushed face behind him, he feels loved—safe and whole.
Wei Wuxian strokes him.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
“Come,” he says, soft.
Lan Wangji does.
——
Days later, they are back on the fifth floor of the library as usual.
They’ve spent the past hour studying in blissful silence. Lan Wangji has managed to type out an entire essay in that time frame. Wei Wuxian has… Well, Lan Wangji is not quite sure what Wei Wuxian has managed to accomplish academically.
Still, his presence is welcome. Essential, even.
Two fingers tap against the side of Lan Wangji’s laptop. With a grin, Wei Wuxian slides their shared notebook across the table.
Trying not to let his lips twitch into an obvious smile, Lan Wangji opens it.
A drawing awaits him.
Two rabbits—each with a small ribbon tied to an ear. One blue. One red.
Underneath, Wei Wuxian has written five words.
I love you, Lan Zhan.
Lan Wangji stares at the page for several moments, unable to look away.
His heart grows warm. Inside him, something begins to bubble up to the surface. He feels so immediately restless that he opens his mouth, uncaring of any rules, and says, “Wei Ying. I love you too.”
Wei Wuxian beams. He cocks his head, eyebrows raised and ready to tease. “Wow, Lan Zhan, you’re really risking it all to tell me this out loud. How brave!”
Lan Wangji sighs, fond.
“Perhaps it is worth it. For you.”
He means it.
Every word.