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When Wei Wuxian returns to their home, Lan Zhan is waiting for him.
The torches are unlit, so he is a sketch of smudged charcoal — an impression of black hair and bare skin, made pale by the slightest hint of moonlight bleeding into the cave. The lines of his kneeling body are outlined in sweeping careless strokes, features lost to the shadow. But as Wei Wuxian’s eyes adjust to the darkness, the subtle glitter of light reveals itself: in Lan Zhan's eyes, always so full of light, even in a place like this; upon the silver of his forehead ribbon, the only scrap of cloth he wears; at the head of his hard cock; upon his lower lip, which is open. Expectant.
‘Ah.’
Wei Wuxian tilts his head. Shifts, slowly, from where he’d stopped dead upon pushing through the door — well, curtain, really — to their bedroom. He takes a single step forwards, and watches Lan Zhan’s lips part further.
‘Lan Zhan, have I made you wait?’ he asks lightly, teasingly. Almost the same tone he would’ve used three years ago in Gusu, when trying to get Lan Zhan’s attention had been the only real point of contention in his life.
Almost the same.
Almost.
‘How long have you been kneeling, hm? Were you waiting here so patiently the entire time I was talking to the Wens?’
He moves closer again, twirling Chenqing carelessly through his fingers. It is cold to the touch, even now — still infused with the power that had so recently been flowing through it.
‘You know, I thought you would’ve been tired from the fight,’ he muses idly. Shifts his attention down to Lan Zhan’s cock, which must be flushed a pretty colour if he’s already so wet. ‘I suppose I was wrong.’
Wei Wuxian is close enough, now, to see the way that Lan Zhan’s fingers press restlessly into his thighs.
Of course, Lan Zhan must be able to see the direction of Wei Wuxian’s gaze. The remnants of his power will still be flickering within it; and when he comes to stand before Lan Zhan, it is reflected within Lan Zhan's eyes — twin sparks of muted crimson, vivid amidst the monochroma.
Lan Zhan has tipped his face up enough to follow him. Wei Wuxian presses Chenqing beneath his chin, tilting it further.
There is a very slight exhale at the touch, but no resistance. The fiery sparks extinguish as Lan Zhan's eyes fall closed, the dark sweep of his lashes just barely visible against his cheek.
The closed eyes, the bared neck. The unhesitating obedience.
Wei Wuxian smiles, and for a moment — before it becomes the pleased, voracious half-grin of the Yiling Patriarch — it is Wei Ying’s smile. Soft and small and loving. The smile of the Wei Ying who belongs to Lan Zhan. Not to shadow, and not to rage. Only to Lan Zhan.
Then the hunger is back, and he’s stepping even closer, stretching Lan Zhan’s neck further. This time, his gasp is unmistakable.
‘I wonder how long you’ve been planning this, Lan Zhan. How long you’ve wanted it.’
He trails Chenqing down Lan Zhan’s throat. Watches it jump beneath the feather-light touch.
‘Hmm? Won’t you tell me, sweetheart?’
Lan Zhan presses his lips together for a moment, draws the lower beneath his teeth. Even after all they’ve done, he can still be so shy — at the start, at least, before Wei Wuxian unravels every last thread of his restraint.
Ah, it really shouldn’t be surprising. Two decades of repression can hardly be entirely destroyed in two months.
Though they will be destroyed. Wei Wuxian has made a promise to both Lan Zhan and himself; and after all, if there’s one thing Wei Wuxian’s good at, it’s destruction.
‘Since the battle,’ Lan Zhan says at last, voice smooth as velvet and just as soft. Wei Wuxian would almost think him composed — if it weren’t for the way he has swayed minutely forwards, or the way his thighs have parted, ever so slightly, as if to invite Wei Wuxian closer.
And how could he possibly decline?
But it will have to wait just a little longer. Lan Zhan will get his reward, eventually; for now, Wei Wuxian moves Chenqing to press against Lan Zhan’s lower lip, coaxing his mouth to part further.
‘Good boy,’ he says. In response, Lan Zhan’s closed lashes flicker, his hands fisting convulsively atop his thighs. ‘So good. Does it excite you, watching me fight?’
‘Yes,’ Lan Zhan whispers, perfect lips shifting against the same instrument that channels all of Wei Wuxian’s anger, his shadow and death.
Heat ripples low within Wei Wuxian. Such a beautiful, beautiful gift he has been given.
‘Why?’
‘You look so…’ Lan Zhan pauses. His eyes open, slightly, and even in the dark Wei Wuxian can see they already hazed with pleasure. ‘Powerful.’
Wei Wuxian hums as if surprised. Slides Chenqing in, and Lan Zhan’s mouth opens for it, welcoming it inside as his lashes flutter in bliss.
It always surprises him, the extent to which Lan Zhan loves this. While he himself does enjoy sucking cock, it’s more for Lan Zhan’s reactions than for the physical sensation of it — Lan Zhan, however, loves being filled. Forced open.
Used.
It’s insanely fucking attractive.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t push Chenqing far, just enough to tease him a little. And it’s pleasingly successful — Lan Zhan’s breaths are coming louder, less steadily, and Wei Wuxian knows by experience that his ears must be stained a marital red.
‘You like that, ah? Seeing me powerful?’
Lan Zhan gives a soft, high sound that Wei Wuxian takes for the assent it is. Even as Lan Zhan stills, evidently embarrassed, Wei Wuxian presses a hand to his face. Cups his jaw gently as he withdraws Chenqing.
‘You’re being so perfect for me, Lan Zhan,’ he says, and tosses the flute to the side, sending a wisp of his power to carry it safely to his desk. ‘Undo my robes, will you?’
Lan Zhan does, with a speed borne of both practice and clear impatience. When both layers of Wei Wuxian’s robes are open, only his inner-pants constraining his already half-hard cock, Lan Zhan hesitates despite his haste.
‘No need to stop, love,’ Wei Wuxian tells him, and with a soft desperate noise Lan Zhan tugs down his pants and swallows his cock.
A quiet groan slips from him at the sensation. Lan Zhan always feels so fucking amazing, so warm and silken that Wei Wuxian truly feels like he could fuck his face forever — which Lan Zhan would, fortunately, love just as much.
Wei Wuxian sinks a hand into smooth hair, and Lan Zhan goes obediently still.
‘If you want me to slow down or stop, touch my thigh, okay?’ he says. Pulls out slowly, savouring the soft drag of Lan Zhan’s lips against his cock, before slamming back in so suddenly that Lan Zhan chokes. There’s no touch to his leg, however — just a low, emphatic moan — so Wei Wuxian twines his fingers with Lan Zhan’s hair and does it again. Lan Zhan’s prepared this time, and even as his motions begin to increase in speed and strength, Lan Zhan takes it easily.
Takes it like he’s made for it. Like it’s all he thinks about, all he ever wants.
What the fuck did Wei Wuxian do to deserve this? He has no clue — but aiyah, that’s hardly going to stop him from making the most of it.
When Lan Zhan’s starting to make small fucked-out sounds with each thrust, Wei Wuxian uses his grip to tug him off his cock. He pulls off with a gasp, panting quick and ragged, wide-open lips and half-open eyes shining through the darkness.
‘Were you waiting for this?’ Wei Wuxian asks him, low and sultry. ‘Thinking of this, as we fought the intruders? Falling to your knees and getting fucked by me?’
Lan Zhan doesn’t even need prompting. Responds immediately, unashamedly.
‘Yes.’
‘Is it everything you wanted? Do you like it, Lan Zhan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Like it,’ Lan Zhan says, so very beautifully breathless. ‘Like…being good for you. Filled by you. Claimed—’
Wei Wuxian yanks him back down onto his cock, and he goes with a muffled needy sound, throat opening for him instantly. This time, he fucks Lan Zhan until his eyes are glittering, until the tears spill over and trace down his cheeks. And when Wei Wuxian tugs him off, he resists it, pulling against the fist in his hair as he struggles mindlessly to fill his mouth again.
For a moment, Wei Wuxian watches. Drinks in the gorgeous sight of his shattered restraint. Then Lan Zhan gives a faint needy whine and he laughs quietly, fondness and love and fiery lust tangling in his chest.
‘Finish it,’ Wei Wuxian says, as he lets him go.
Lan Zhan falls upon his cock and buries it down his throat, sucking like it’s his singular purpose in life, strong fingers digging bruises into Wei Wuxian’s hips. The dull burn of it inflames the heat already searing through him and he’s seizing the back of Lan Zhan’s neck and coming so hard that his vision flickers red. Lan Zhan swallows it easily, effortlessly graceful even now, and muffles soft appreciative sounds into Wei Wuxian’s heaving stomach.
‘Fuck,’ Wei Wuxian sighs, a little shakily — and the fingers he combs through Lan Zhan’s hair are less than steady. ‘Fuck, you’re so good, Lan Zhan. You really love that, don’t you? You drink my come like I drink Emperor’s Smile…’
He trails off, realising that Lan Zhan hasn’t moved, that his grip on Wei Wuxian’s hips hasn’t relaxed in the slightest.
Dipping a hand into his robes, Wei Wuxian pulls out a talisman with two fingers. Flicks it, and it bursts into flame, floating in midair. Illuminated now in crimson and warm gold, Lan Zhan looks up at him, eyes large and glossy and pleading.
‘Oh,’ Wei Wuxian murmurs. Smiles, slowly, as he drags a finger down Lan Zhan’s heated ear. ‘Should I leave my cock in until it gets hard again? Is that what you want, my love?’
Lan Zhan gives a stifled moan, his hold gentling as he shivers beneath the teasing, feather-light touch.
It’s a little uncomfortable — verges upon overstimulation — but Wei Wuxian is more than willing to put up with some discomfort for the sight of a trembling moaning Lan Zhan, perfect mouth stretched wide around his cock.
It is, he thinks, a sight that nobody could ever have enough of — and the fact that it’s him who gets to see it, Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, is almost beyond comprehension.
‘You really feel so perfect, Lan Zhan. So amazing.’ As he threads his fingers into Lan Zhan’s hair, unbound and untidy yet still so very soft, he drops his voice to a soothing murmur. ‘So good for me, my beautiful Hanguang-jun, my Lan Zhan, my love.’
Lan Zhan gives another low sound. Sinks deeper onto his cock, as if lulled by his words. Wei Wuxian grits his teeth against a brief flash of discomfort but doesn’t stop him; merely slips the fingers of one hand further into Lan Zhan’s hair, as the other smooths down the curve of his neck.
‘I’m sorry for making you wait so long.’ He means more than just tonight, he knows, they both know — Lan Zhan’s fingers press into his hips, his throat contracting slightly— ‘But we’ll make up for it, won’t we?’
Wei Wuxian smiles at Lan Zhan’s quiet, content hum. Tightens his hold, just a little, to hear it stutter into something higher.
A responding heat pools immediately in the pit of his stomach. His cock twitches, begins to harden again, and Lan Zhan feels it — his eyes fall shut, lashes brushing against Wei Wuxian’s skin.
‘We’ll make up for it,’ Wei Wuxian repeats. A promise, for tonight and forever. ‘You’ll never have to be alone again, Lan Zhan. Never be empty again. Never cold or regretful or ashamed.’
As he speaks, he winds the hand in Lan Zhan’s hair tighter. Lan Zhan begins to twitch, urgent noises edging every breath — and Wei Wuxian presses his other hand to Lan Zhan’s throat, to feel how his cock forces him open as he gives a tiny, experimental thrust.
Lan Zhan makes a gorgeous sound. Desperate, punched-out. So loud and shameless that it would’ve been a cry, if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full.
And abruptly, Wei Wuxian is ready to take.
Sinks his teeth into his lip, his other hand into Lan Zhan’s hair, and fucks his throat without mercy.
Over time, Lan Zhan’s cheekbones stain red. Become traced by fresh tears. His lashes flicker, only the whites of his eyes showing. He isn’t supporting himself anymore — only Wei Wuxian's grip is keeping him upright — but his hands are still upon Wei Wuxian’s hips, and he’s keening, high and jagged.
‘So good, so fucking good,’ Wei Wuxian gasps, hardly knowing what he’s saying, hardly able to hear himself over the blank roaring in his ears. ‘So beautiful, ah Lan Zhan—’
This time, when he comes, it feels like it sinks deep into his stomach and rips up through his body, so fucking amazing that it verges upon pain, and he throws his head back and gasps to the ceiling as the shadows shift and flicker around him, within him. His talisman flares a searing white — only for an instant — before it’s gone, leaving only a colourful impression in the blackness that Wei Wuxian blinks away.
Distantly, he’d noticed that Lan Zhan hadn’t swallowed so easily this time. Had choked on his come, been forced to pull back — and now his burning forehead is braced against Wei Wuxian’s hip, breaths hot and ragged against his skin.
‘Lan Zhan,’ he whispers. Gets a tiny broken murmur in return, barely recognisable as his name. Wants to do nothing but sink to the floor and kiss Lan Zhan, wrap both arms around him — so does, ignoring the taste of his own come on Lan Zhan’s lips and the discomfort of the rock beneath his knees.
Fuck, how long has Lan Zhan been kneeling for? His legs must be numb — Wei Wuxian tugs him forwards and he all but collapses onto his chest, burying his face into Wei Wuxian’s neck.
‘There we go, my love,’ he hums softly. Reaches down for Lan Zhan’s cock but finds it already slick and soft. He blinks. Begins to grin, as his slowed mind works through it.
‘Lan Zhan…you really did enjoy that, ah?’
This gets him a slightly exasperated huff against his collarbone, but Lan Zhan does not pull away. Melts further into him, if anything — aiyah, adorable as always!
‘Mm,’ Lan Zhan says. Then, with a disarming gentleness: ‘Thank you.’
Wei Wuxian laughs slightly. ‘Ah, there's really no need to thank me. It’s not like doing that is ever a hardship.’
He runs a hand down Lan Zhan’s spine, overtly lascivious — but Lan Zhan merely lifts his head, and even in the shadow Wei Wuxian can see the emotion in his expressive eyes. So earnest. So open. So fucking agonisingly real.
Wei Wuxian gives a sharp exhale, as something deep inside him cracks.
‘Still,’ Lan Zhan says softly. ‘Thank you.’
For a moment, Wei Wuxian can only stare back at him. Then he laughs again, more quietly, and far less steadily. Presses a kiss to the centre of Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon, hears his shaky sigh.
‘You’re welcome, then,’ he says, and pulls his lover as close as he can, as his chest floods with an emotion warm and sweet as sunlight.