nevertheless-moving

[nevertheless-moving]

So Nolan came to earth 100% intending to lie about his whole everything. then proceeded to gave his full name and real home address, confident in the belief that noone on this bumfuck nowhere world at the edge of this stupid wopwop galaxy would have heard of the biggest scariest empire in the known universe. and he was right.

[nevertheless-moving]

update from dashcon 2, someone has not only proposed IN the ballpit but also TO the ballpit. love wins

[nevertheless-moving]

DEMON OF YUNMENG

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Fifteen

“Hey, Lan Zhan! Look what I found!”

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened. “Wei Ying said his army was large enough.”

“Come on, look!”

“Wei Ying agreed we were too close to the conference to risk nighthunting anymore.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Lan Zhan, would you just look!”

Lan Wangji looked. After two long blinks, some of the tension in his shoulders released.

“Don’t worry, I won’t eat them!” Wei Wuxian said, grinning and keeping a firm hold of the small black and white bundles squirming in his arms. “I remember you saying not to hunt them!”

Quietly, Lan Wangji watched Wei Wuxian approach, then collapse dramatically to the ground beside him, rabbits redoubling their struggle at the sudden move.

“I saw them and I remembered those two that I gave you at Cloud Recesses!” Wei Wuxian said happily. “Do you remember when I did that? It was right before I got kicked out — you were so offended at the thought of me eating them! Between that and what you said the first night we camped, uh… man, it’s been, what, a month? Anyway, you said not to hunt rabbits both then and when we were fifteen, right? So, I guess you like them, huh?”

Lan Wangji nodded slowly.

“I knew it!” Wei Wuxian said, grin widening. Squeezing the rabbits in his elbows, he managed to scratch both behind the ears. The black one struggled, then quieted, leaning into the touch. The white one quivered like a plucked guqin string, then bit his hand.

“Fuck! Here, Lan Zhan, take this guy! He's easy, he just wants attention.”

“Wei Ying —”

Wei Wuxian shoved the black rabbit into his hands.  

Both it and Lan Wangji froze. The rabbit recovered first, leaping away.

To everyone’s surprise, Lan Wangji caught it mid-air, one arm pulling it to his chest, while the other hand stroked it firmly from head to tail. The rabbit settled almost immediately, whiskers vibrating softly.

The sight of such an upright cultivator stroking a small, adorable creature made Wei Wuxian cackle in delight. 

Startled by the sound and movement, the white rabbit struggled again, but remained held fast in Wei Wuxian’s arms.

“So, what did you do with them?” Wei Wuxian asked, patting the fluffy ball of fury. “The ones from back then? They looked kinda like these, right? You released them somewhere safe, I assume?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji looked down at the black rabbit doing an approximation of purring in his arms, gaze occasionally flicking to the white one fighting to escape.

“Ah, yeah,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Yeah, that figures. Pets aren't allowed in the Cloud Recesses, right?”

“...They are not.”

Lan Wangji's eyes lingered on the squirming rabbit in Wei Wuxian’s arms. 

“Don't worry, he'll come around to me,” Wei Wuxian reassured him. “I just need to find the right way to pet him.”

Lan Wangji placed the black rabbit on his lap, where it immediately flopped sideways, legs twitching. “Does Wei Ying do this often?”

“What, catch rabbits?” he shrugged, trying to stroke the underside of the rabbit’s chin only to be bitten again. “Ow! No, I always liked hunting pheasants more.“ He winked, leaning in conspiratorially. “I guess you're not the only one with an ungentlemanly fondness—fucking ow—for cute fuzzy creatures!”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji said, stroking the top of the black rabbit's head, eyes still fixed on the white.

Wei Wuxian laughed again, “Ah, I’ve found you out, Lan Zhan, no use hidi—ow!”

Lan Wangji's lips turned down slightly. “Has Wei Ying considered letting that one go?” 

“He'll come around,” Wei Wuxian insisted. “If he was really scared, he'd freeze, or shit on me. He just needs to be convinced.”

Lan Wangji looked away. “So Wei Wuxian does do this often.”

“Huh?” The rabbit tried clamoring for freedom up his front; Wei Wuxian easily caught it. “What? You mean petting an animal until it comes around? I mean, I guess sometimes… a lot less recently… anymore…animals don’t tend to… I can’t really remember…”

“Absurd,” Lan Wangji said, still petting the black rabbit with even strokes.

“Wow, you’re really good at that,” Wei Wuxian said, impressed. “Have you pet rabbits a lot before?”

“...” Lan Wangji was still looking away; Wei Wuxian squinted at him.

“What?” he asked, bemused. “Are you really that mad that I’m bothering this poor, innocent bunny? Really, if I think I’m hurting or seriously scaring him I’ll stop, but sometimes it’s more fun winning them over when…”

It clicked and he burst out into raucous laughing, finally setting the rabbit aside to fling his arms and body around Lan Wangji. “Bwahahaah! Lan Zhan! Ah! Are you drinking vinegar because I’m harassing it and not you?”

Despite its previous struggles, the white rabbit, seemingly confused by its sudden change in fortune, hopped only a few paces away before turning and watching, whiskers twitching wildly. 

Lan Wangji’s ears pinked; he carefully placed the black bundle down beside him, where it immediately began eating grass, seemingly unbothered by its inexplicable day.

“Shameless!” he scolded, attempting to push Wei Wuxian off, only to be stymied as the demonic cultivator, seemingly not content with merely occupying his lap, continued climbing upward, kneeing Lan Wangji in the chest as he scrambled precariously on top of his shoulders.

 “Wei Ying —“

“You are!” Wei Wuxian said, leaning down from his perch to grin at Lan Wangji, yanking his ribbon, pinching his cheek, then his ear, then his side — hands moving too fast for Lan Zhan to catch easily. “You absolutely are! Lan Zhan, don’t worry — you’re my favorite angry rabbit!”

“Enough,” Lan Zhan said sternly, ears red. Managing to grab a stray wrist, he attempted to drag Wei Wuxian down but was perhaps half-hearted in his efforts, as, eel-like, the man escaped his hold, twisting the motion around to land on top.

Hesitating in a half-recline, Lan Wangji stared up at the figure who straddled his lap. An ordinary man would likely have been blinded by the sun in his eyes, unable to distinguish features in front of him. But Hanguang-Jun, of course, had a cultivator’s eyesight, and was perfectly able to see every inch of Wei Wuxian's mischievous expression, not to be thrown off by the sunlight haloing him. As such, he really should have expected the sharp pinch to his inner thigh.

Lan Wangji jolted, then huffed, surging to wrestle Wei Wuxian to the dirt. It didn't take long this time to pin him, hands locking decisively around his wrists.

“Ah, Lan Er-Gege,” Wei Wuxian whined, squirming. “So cruel to —”

Rustling came from the brush beside them. Something far larger than a rabbit. 

They froze.

“Hello? Is someone over there?”

They sprang apart.

Wei Wuxian rolled to the side, straightening his robes and putting his hands behind his head so he appeared to be lounging in a careless, but not overtly disheveled manner. When he glanced back at Lan Zhan, he was sitting cross legged, back stiff, guqin in his lap. His hair and ribbon were in perfect order. 

Two men emerged from the brush not a moment later. Judging solely by looks, they appeared to be family — likely father and son.

“Ah, we thought we heard someone over here,” the older one said. His eyes widened as they fell on Lan Wangji’s weapon, robes, and instrument; hastily, he inclined his head and shoulders in a messy bow, the other man following suit behind him. “Oh! Noble cultivators! I hope we haven’t disturbed a nighthunt.”

“No,” Lan Wangji said, rising to his feet and returning the bow.

“Nothing to hunt but game for dozens of li around here,” Wei Wuxian added wistfully, remaining rudely sprawled on the ground.

“Ah, good, good,” the older man said, nodding. “My family and I are travelling to market in the city; the two of us went ahead to scout for a good spot for camp this evening.” He bowed again, lower this time, son once again following his actions a half step slow, distracted by Lan Zhan’s guqin and sword. “If I may — my wife is an excellent cook, and we would be honored to serve respected cultivators a humble dinner.”

I'm sure they would, Wei Wuxian thought, equal parts annoyed and sympathetic. Making camp besides cultivators was as good a defense as it was possible to get from any evil that might lurk in the space between civilized towns; dinner was cheap payment indeed for that sort of protection.

Before Lan Wangji could speak and spoil their night, Wei Wuxian sat up.“Your wife, huh?” he asked, grinning with all his teeth. “Any pretty daughters?”

Lan Wangji turned sharply towards him and shot him a glare, hand dropping to his sword in irritation.

Wei Wuxian laughed, bright and cold. “Relax, Hanguang-Jun,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “It was just a joke!”

For the first time, the younger man, who could not have been more than seventeen, stepped in front of his father, hiding him somewhat behind his large farmer's shoulders. “Hanguang-Jun,” he said, looking uneasily between the white and black-clad cultivators. “Apologies for not recognizing you sooner. Of course, you should not feel obligated to join our fire if you are busy with more important matters.”

“Ah, come on, Hanguang-Jun,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning back on his hands and drawing enough resentment from his core that a spiritually sensitive individual might detect a chill. More importantly, he had been reliably informed it was enough to bring what one might call an "incredibly fucking creepy" red gleam to his eyes. “My nights as a free man could be coming to an end! I could use a good meal.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said warningly; whether it was at the resentment, the insult to his cooking skills, or actually an intentional effort to play along, it was impossible to say.

Naturally, the two farmers faltered backwards, paleing.

“Ah, I see Hanguang-Jun is busy,” the father said, gripping his son’s shoulder tightly and dragging him away. “So sorry to disturb cultivation business!”

“Wait,” Lan Wangji said, glaring at Wei Wuxian before turning back to the frozen farmers. “You and your family have nothing to fear when making camp tonight,” he said, with a solemnity and confidence that brooked no doubt. “Wei Ying speaks to provoke reaction. Nothing more.”

Wei Wuxian groaned, falling backward. “Ah, you don’t have to insult my abilities on top of everything else!” he griped. “If Hanguang-Jun were anyone else…” he trailed off, flaring enough resentment that even a non-cultivator should feel an uneasy cold. 

“Ah, thank you, Hanguang-Jun,” the farmer said, bowing again. “We will — thank — thank you!”

“Many thanks to Hanguang-Jun!” The son chimed.

They fled.

Lan Wangji glared at Wei Wuxian, who waited until the two were safely out of earshot to reply. 

“What!” he said. “They’ll be fine without us! Seriously, me and mine are the only sources of resentful energy for dozens of li around here. And it’s not like you wanted to camp near a family tonight, anyway.”

Lan Wangji just exhaled, hands balled into fists. Wei Wuxian studied him. He was fairly sure he had it figured out — horny gripping was just the forearms, angry gripping came from the shoulder — actually determining that moment to moment with voluminous layers was another matter, but context clues helped.

Right now he was gripping from the shoulder, but not to the point of white-knuckled rage — just low-level annoyance.

“Would it have been better for them to figure out who I was after we followed them back to camp?” Wei Wuxian asked frankly. “Were you just going to avoid saying my name the entire night? Isn’t it better to get it over with?”

“...”

Wei Wuxian looked away, brightening when he saw the two rabbits hadn’t completely left, lingering on the edge of the clearing and chewing on grass side by side.

“Besides,” he said, pointing them out. “If they had camped here with us, they might have wanted to eat the bunnies.”

Lan Wangji exhaled hard again, but his grip did relax somewhat; the man really liked rabbits.

//

Dinner was solemn that night, Lan Wangji distant for reasons that Wei Wuxian didn’t have the energy to try and tease out, too focused on playing his little army to sleep. 

Wei Wuxian began chewing willow twigs immediately after they finished eating — it had taken only one blowjob immediately following a chili oil soaked meal to guiltily vow to never make that mistake again, no matter how annoyed he might be at Lan Zhan at any given time.

Lan Wangji approached with caution, seeming to take several meditative breaths before finally sitting beside him on a log by the fire, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip.

“...You’re not going to waste another night trying to lecture me, are you?” Wei Wuxian asked, weary and wary.

“No,” Lan Wangji replied quietly. “Wei Ying does not have to defend himself from me.”

With a groan of relief, Wei Wuxian fell sideways into his lap. He had been trying to generally keep his distance, but fuck it — Lan Zhan had fairly clearly demonstrated that he considered any bad energy Wei Wuxian gave off worth the trade off for the good stuff. And the truth was, the family’s reaction earlier had reminded him how little time and distance they had until the conference. This really might be one of his last nights to unwind. Lan Zhan dropped a hand to his head, gently stroking his hair.

…Perhaps Lan Zhan had also been reminded.

“Ah, that Light Bearing Lord,” Wei Wuxian said dramatically. “He really is too powerful for this one!”

“Wei Ying,” said light-bearing lord admonished, with a slight frown.

“Shh, come on, didn’t you ever play pretend as a kid?” Wei Wuxian thumped Lan Zhan’s chest with a lazy swing. “Listen! Where was I — ah, right — after a long and hard battle, the Demon of Yunmeng has been struck down, and is utterly at the Lord’s mercy! None would fault such a righteous champion of righteousness for striking while the Demon is temporarily weakened.”

“Mm.” Lan Wangji stood, sweeping Wei Wuxian up into his arms as he went. “I will carry Wei Ying when he is weak.”

Heat rose in his face. “Noo,” he whined, crossing his arms and kicking his feet. “You’re doing it wrong. That’s not the game!”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji walked to his tent, shifting Wei Wuxian to one arm to open the flap in an impressive feat of strength and dexterity. “Would apologize, but it has been forbidden in these matters.”

“And if there’s one thing Lan-er-gongzi is good at, it's following rules,” Wei Wuxian griped, clinging to Lan Zhan’s neck as he laid him down on a worn bedrolll as carefully as if it were the finest of silk bedding.

“Usually,” Lan Wangji countered.

“Yeah…” Wei Wuxian wrapped his fingers around the trailing stands of Lan Zhan’s ribbon, tugging him down. “I really have corrupted you, haven’t I?” His smirk came out a little too close to a grimace.

Instead of answering, Lan Wangji turned his head, pressing his lips to where Wei Wuxian’s fingers met silk. 

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said, breath catching in his throat. “Say, Lan Zhan…”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed. “If Hanguang-Jun didn’t vanquish Yunmeng Zhi Mo, perhaps it’s the other way around?”

“Mm?”

Slowly, Wei Wuxian unwrapped his armband, Lan Zhan tracking the motion with keen eyes. Then he flipped them over, straddling Lan Wangji’s thighs and leaning down. 

“You can't take this off,” Wei Wuxian said, playful tone not entirely hiding his nerves as he tied the black fabric around Lan Wangji’s eyes. “That’s a rule for the game, alright?”

“Alright,” Lan Wangji agreed, brow furrowing.

The other armband came off to reinforce the blindfold, then Wei Wuxian pulled Lan Zhan’s headband on top, feeling a little silly—if Lan Zhan wanted to push the fabric away from his eyes, none of this would exactly stop him.

“Lan Zhan won’t break this rule, right?” he confirmed.

After several moments of consideration, Lan Wangji nodded, finding Wei Wuxian’s hand and squeezing it. “...I will keep the blindfold on until you say otherwise. I promise, Wei Ying.”

“Right.” Wei Wuxian licked his lips, then began the now practiced steps of stripping Lan Wangji of his finery. 

Is the light blue fading from too much washing? This trip has been really hard on our clothing. Fuck, Lan Zhan is muscular. It’s not obvious with how many robes he usually wears. Should I be doing more headstands? Oh, maybe I should start copying Gusu fashion — enough layers that I can wear whatever I want on bottom, so that after I commission some tailored ku… Gods be good, how can someone have such well defined muscles and still be so pretty?

Laid out on his back, blindfolded and stripped, Lan Zhan looked every inch the pure sacrifice that the cultivation world no doubt suspected the Demon of Yumeng of ravishing. With a few notable discrepancies. Wei Wuxian stroked the most prominent one, which was hot and responsive and firm and large in his hand, reveling in the way Lan Wangji’s breath stuttered, back arching ever so slightly.

“So, Hanguang-Jun,” Wei Wuxian said, letting his natural arrogance seep into his voice. “Looks like I have you right where I want you.” Right hand still fisting Lan Zhan’s cock, his left moved to idly trace over a few of Lan Zhan’s key acupoints, lightly tapping, but not pressing down hard enough to actually do anything. “You won’t be able to do anything with your spiritual power sealed,” he said, voice light. 

“...Spiritual power sealed,” Lan Wangji repeated slowly. “Or else… I would escape. And not be here.”

Wei Wuxian smiled, dragging his left hand down the center line of Lan Zhan’s chest. Lan Zhan’s cock twitched in his right as he played with the head. “Hanguang-Jun understands.”

Lan Wangji started to reach toward him, but Wei Wuxian snatched his hands, grip feather light.

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, in a scolding whisper. “That’s not how you play. You're at the Demon’s mercy, remember? He has you trapped, so you — you have to keep your hands above your head. Got it? You have to. You can’t move at all.”

Obedient, Lan Wangji withdrew, slowly stretching his arms above his head .

“Ah, so good,” Wei Wuxian purred, heart pounding. Dropping a hand, he gave a final squeeze of approval and warning, then let go, and began to undo his own outer layers.

“Lan-er-gongzi knows the rules now. And Lan-er-gongzi is very good at following rules, isn't he?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji’s hands, elegant and large, flexed around nothing, nearly brushing the walls of the generously sized tent.

Wei Wuxian took off his belt.

“Because Lan-er-gege knows the game ends if he breaks the rules, right?”

Head tilting in the direction of the belt as it was set to the ground, Lan Wangji nodded. 

Taking a deep breath, Wei Wuxian shifted to his feet, standing over him. The charm he had sewn-in some weeks ago lit the canvas softly, providing just enough light to illuminate the line of Lan Wangji’s throat as it bobbed. 

Another deep breath, then he removed his inner robe. Then his under robe.

Then his pants.

At least one part or another of Lan Wangji twitched as each clothing item fell to the ground.

Then, with great care, Wei Wuxian knelt back down, hyperaware of much-washed bedding rubbing against his shins. Of his knees as they bumped the sides of Lan Zhan’s chest, then closed in tighter, more deliberately. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji breathed as skin brushed skin. Wei Wuxian was unable to read the exact emotion in his voice, but there was definitely a fair amount.

He didn't reply, which meant he was able to hear the soft, punched out noise Lan Wangji made as Wei Wuxian lowered himself further back and down, settling on Lan Zhan’s lap. For an improbable moment, he thought Lan Zhan’s dick wouldn’t bend with him, hard and proud as it stood. But despite occasional outward impressions, Lan Zhan was of course flesh and blood, and they slotted together as readily as ever.

Better even! It really was incredible that Wei Wuxian had lived for so many years without realizing that asscheeks naturally parted when you knelt, provided of course your knees were spread wantonly.

Lan Zhan’s hands turned backwards to fist the ground canvas beneath them.

Okay, well that’s not going to last long, but this is our last night camping anyway, so it’s probably alright if he rips his tent.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian breathed, alternating between hot flashes and chills as he started rocking, Lan Zhan’s length burning pleasantly where it rubbed extremely sensitive skin. Goosebumps broke out across his arms and legs. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Curious, he dragged a hand over his own nipples, just to confirm they had indeed hardened, even though it wasn't actually particularly cold. They had, but he let his hands linger longer, just to be certain. “Nh — How is it that even when Hanguang-Jun is at my mercy, I still suspect that Yunmeng Zhi Mo is the one who will be impaled?”

A noise escaped Lan Wangji’s throat. The canvas creaked under his fingers; a few other minute twitches similarly got away from his control. Wei Wuxian had to bite back a giggle at the distinct sensation of knocking at his back entrance. His own cock gradually rose from half-hard anticipation to tap against his stomach.

With remarkable self-discipline, he stopped teasing and forced himself partway way back up, Lan Zhan’s cock chasing after him. It made up an… impressive amount of ground between Wei Wuxian’s knees and waist. 

Shuffling forward to give himself a bit more room to work, he studied Lan Zhan face.

Fucking hell, he was gorgeous. That shade of red his ears were turning might be the most beautiful color in the world, matched only by the delicate pink flush of his throat.

“You know,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching a hand down and tracing a perfectly sculpted cheekbone. “I almost feel bad for all the women who will never even have a chance to see you like this.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted as he breathed in and Wei Wuxian’s thumb slipped in. The inside of Lan Zhan’s lips were soft and wet. 

“Too bad for them Hanguang-Jun is all mine,” Wei Wuxian murmured.

Lan Wangji breathed in more sharply, and Wei Wuxian jerked his hand back. A laugh that hopefully sounded playful and not nervous bubbled out.

“Ha. Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “Got to continue with the — the ritual.”

His right knee pressed heavily into Lan Zhan’s side as he leaned over, fumbling sideways for his belt and rummaging into the pouch attached. He had never really thought of his knees as particularly erogenous, but the place where their skin touched felt fever hot.

At one innocuous point while he was taking too long to dig, Lan Wangji's jolted. A drop of Wei Wuxian’s precome had fallen shamelessly down and landed on exposed skin. Despite his face bursting into flames with the realization, Wei Wuxian didn't acknowledge it outloud.

Eventually he managed to unseal the jar of oil and dip a finger in.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said hoarsely. Yup, that's the sound of canvas tearing.

“Shhh.” Wei Wuxian reached behind himself, between his legs, bumping Lan Wangji’s dick out of the way “Be a good virgin sacrifice and hold still, okay?”

It would probably be safer to do this at a different angle, considering it was all on the line if Lan Zhan shed his blindfold, but…well…he didn't want to stop looking at Lan Zhan’s face. Even as his fingers circled his own rim, most of his focus was on that growing flush.

He had had a little time alone to practice this recently, which meant the only thing he felt as his finger pushed in was pure bliss. “Fuck,” he gasped, pressing in further, tracing that sweet spot. “Fuck! Seriously, how did I not know about this?” Fingering himself alone in a tent while missing Lan Zhan's body heat had felt good. Doing it with Lan Zhan's naked body on display was fucking incredible, sparks of pleasure quickly rising to a blaze low in his stomach.

Lan Wangji’s head had lifted, as if to strain closer to the slick sounds of his finger working in and out.

“Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan,” he managed, watching the smooth ripple of muscles clenching and unclenching across Lan Zhan’s chest and stomach. His hole squeezed around his finger in sympathy.

Pulse loud in his ears, his hand moved faster. “Ah, fuck, Lan Zhan, it’s like my ass is, ngh, hungry for it, the way it's swallowing my finger.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said more insistently, hips jerking upward.

“I’m — ah — hurrying, I’m hurrying. I have to, nh, stretch, remember.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji grunted. “You —”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian breathed. “Just — mhh!” he pushed in a second finger, more forcefully. “Just be good and wait, okay? I’m, mhn, getting everything ready. But you have to wait right there, where I can see you, alright?”

“Wait,” Lan Wangji rasped. A hand abandoned safe distance, reaching towards him. “We —”

Wei Wuxian half-scrambled, half-slid, half-fell backwards, until his ass hit the ground between Lan Zhan’s calves. His fingers yanked free, stinging his entrance in their hurry to cover the scar. 

But Lan Wangji's hand never even reached so much as his thigh — he had aborted the movement, arm folded awkwardly by his head.

“You have to follow the rules, remember,” Wei Wuxian said, trying to slow his rabbiting heart.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s fingers curled in midair. His head fell back down with a huff of air. “We can’t.”

“What? What do you mean we can’t?”

“Not now. The conference — your trial — is in three days.”

“...Yes?”

“Wei Ying must be in his best health.”

Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly at the bewildering  turn in conversation, then his lips curved up.

“Lan Zhan,” he said slowly. “Are you worried about breaking me?”

Lan Wangji's cock flinched in the air between Wei Wuxian’s now wide-spread legs. “Do not want Wei Ying to be hurt,” Lan Wangji said, voice quiet and tight. “Especially if he…may have to run…may have to fight…”

“A certain part of you would disagree,” Wei Ying said wryly, poking at Lan Zhan’s straining dick with oiled fingers.

Lan Wangji inhaled. “Wei Ying. Please. I do not speak frivolously.”

“Ah, of course you're serious,” Wei Wuxian groaned. “You really are too good, you know?” 

“Wei Ying…”

Groaning louder, Wei Wuxian readjusted, lifting his ass off unforgiving ground to instead sit high on Lan Zhan’s leg. He rocked, dragging his oiled crack against tensely muscled thigh. “Lan Zhan,” he whined. “I'm already wet!”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji had retreated, cords of arm muscle standing out as his hands curled into white knuckled fists.

Wei Wuxian slid forward as he splayed his hands across Lan Zhan’s abdomen, marveling at the feeling of muscles tensing, of Lan Zhan quite literally fighting himself, “You are too good for your own good, sometimes,” he murmured.

“Mm.” With his eyes hidden, no trace of the battle appeared on his face. But fuck, those thighs could crush steel, and Wei Wuxian was a little worried his nails might be drawing blood from his palms.

“You're really that concerned about, what, the chance my step might falter at the wrong moment?” Wei Wuxian asked, genuinely curious. “Because you think you'll actually split me open? Fuck me that hard?” 

Lan Wangji’s cock jumped, obviously thickening. His jaw tightened hard enough you could hear his teeth snap together.

Unable to resist, Wei Wuxian bounced forward, knees falling to either side of Lan Wangji’s hips. “You really… Lan Zhan, you really think if you're fully inside me…”

He let his legs slide apart, lowering his lightly oiled hole until it brushed the tip of Lan Zhan’s cock. “If you're inside me in that way… you'll lose all control?” Wei Wuxian asked, reaching a hand down to grasp Lan Zhan’s length and guide it so it caught the rim.

With the hold he had, Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Wangji’s pulse speed up as his hips jerked. Tight and oiled as things were, his cock slipped forward, leaving the entry hole behind. Wei Wuxian let go to allow him to reconsider his thoughts.

After a long, shaky breath, Lan Wangji eventually replied, tone remarkably even. “Rule  five hundred and four: admit to one's own shortcomings, particularly when it affects others.”

“You're serious,” Wei Wuxian said in wonder. None of the fight very obviously rippling through Lan Zhan’s muscles appeared on his face; Lan robes really hid a lot. Wei Wuxian’s knees slid open further, and he dragged his crack teasingly against the tip of Lan Zhan’s cock, which by all appearances was in open rebellion against the rest of the mind and body’s attempts to restrain it, jerking and leaking pre-come with clear intent. He dropped a palm to Lan Zhan’s chest for balance, sighing at the feeling of Lan Zhan's dick, so close to...  

Wow. Lan Zhan’s heart is really racing.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said. “Is this... part of the game? To torture me?”

Wei Wuxian barked a laugh, then groaned and let his knees fall all the way open, so he landed on Lan Zhan’s thighs

He inched forward, until, for the first time, their cocks brushed against each other without anything to get in the way.

Lan Zhan’s reaction was lost under the sound of Wei Wuxian’s whimper, but he could feel his heart pounding almost everywhere their skin touched.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said ruefully, studying the obscene sight for a moment before grabbing the jar once more, pouring a stream from a small height. They both twitched as it landed where they met. “No — nhh — not torture — just one of my moments of foolishness.”

“Wei Ying. May I move now?”

“Like this,” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely, rocking his hips “Just—ah—just like this.”

Lan Wangji’s hips jerked and Wei Wuxian squeezed his thighs together so he wouldn't be thrown off.

Wei Wuxian grasped them with a slick hand, just barely managing to get his fingers around them both. “Oh,” Wei Wuxian groaned at the feeling of silky, heated skin sliding against silky, heated skin. “Lan Zhan, how did I ever think you were cold?”

“Wei Ying, please,” Lan Wangji’s hands had found one another, clenched together high above his head, arm muscles flexing with the effort. “ I…”

“You…?” Wei Wuxian asked, twisting his wrist.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan snapped. “Let me touch you.”

“This — ah — isn’t enough touching for you?” Wei Wuxian dragged his fist up and down their combined lengths, finger ips not even touching when he reached the base. He had never considered himself particularly small — average, really, maybe even a bit above, based on the crude sampling he had seen while bathing and swimming. But next to Lan Zhan — fuck, even with him spread out and exposed, literally blindfolded, not to mention twitching helplessly — it was impossible not to feel outmatched.

“So big,” he murmured in genuine admiration. “Lan Er-gege is—nh—so impressive. So much bigger than me.”

Lan Wangji’s hips bucked and Wei Wuxian whined as their cocks ground against each other. Shakily, Wei Wuxian lifted the hand he had been using to balance, also wrapping it around their cocks, so there was something more obvious to fuck into. 

Using two hands like this looked as absurd as it did obscene. He wanted to show Lan Zhan with a laugh, he wanted to make Lan Zhan look, he wanted Lan Zhan’s hands to overlap his own. 

But every other stroke, one knuckle or another would drag against the scar, and it wasn't very noticable, except for how it was. 

He forced his eyes closed to hold back aggravated tears.

Lan Wangji’s breathing sped up, back arching with enough force to nearly throw Wei Wuxian off.

“Be good, Lan Zhan. I’ve got you,” he said hoarsely, clamping his legs around Lan Zhan’s sides, clenching his hands harder, grunting at the feeling of them pushing against each other. “I’m — hnn — right here.”

It took a surprisingly short time (or perhaps long, considering the torment he had put the man through in the lead up) for Lan Zhan to shudder over the edge, throbbing against him and slicking his hands and making the subsequent movements that much better.

“Ahhh,” Wei Wuxian keened, not letting go, stroking Lan Zhan through the aftershocks even as he brought himself closer and closer to his own peak. “Ah, fuck, you feel so good, you’re so beautiful, Lan Zhan, it's really not fair. How can you look so perfect even covered in spend?”

Lan Wangji’s whole body spasmed as if to grab him, before falling back down, breathing heavily, sweat running off him in sheets.

“So good,” Wei Wuxian said, blinking back sparks. “I knew I could trust you to — ah — your skin, Lan Zhan, can I — fuck, can I come on you? Please? Let me? Please, you have to let me, I’m, nhh — I’m so close.”

Lan Wangji nodded, then nodded several more times as if worried it wouldn’t be seen, as if Wei Wuxian could possibly be looking anywhere but at him.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said, as Wei Wuxian worked his hands faster — Lan Wangji’s cock had already hardened for his second round. “Please — I want to feel you.”

“Oh gods,” Wei Wuxian gasped, shaking as Lan Zhan thrust up again.

“Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan — Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!”

It took barely a few more uneven strokes before Wei Wuxian was shouting, ears ringing as his come went — went fucking everywhere — coating his hands, both their dicks, both their stomachs. Some of it went further — was it in Lan Zhan’s hair, even? Fuck, he had been underestimating how much pants and mouths had been containing things. 

He panted, knees shaking as he caught his breath.

Lan Wangji’s hands twitched. “Please,” he said, voice hoarse. “I —”

“Shhh,” Wei Wuxian said breathlessly. Carefully, keenly aware of every inch of exposed body, he leaned down, pressing Lan Wangji’s twisting hands to the ruined tent floor. He could never manage it with force, not without resentment — not even if Lan Zhan’s core actually was sealed. But Lan Wangji stilled under Wei Wuxian’s delicate grip, allowing him to lace their fingers together.

Wei Wuxian leaned over carefully to lick a stray splatter from Lan Zhan’s cheek and felt Lan Zhan quivering underneath him.

“It’s alright,” he said softly into Lan Zhan’s ear. “You can bite me tomorrow.”

Lan Wangji made an indecipherable and very, very quiet noise.

Wei Wuxian worked his way down, cleaning up their mess, reveling at the feel of skin against skin even as he was meticulous in keeping his hips canted away.

After licking his way down Lan Zhan’s chest, he didn’t continue teasing. As soon as his head was level with Lan Zhan’s groin, he didn’t hesitate to take his length into his mouth and do everything in his power to make up for the fact that the rules of the game meant Lan Wangji wasn’t allowed to thrust or watch. Hollowing his cheeks, he swallowed him whole on the first attempt, until his throat burned, and then proceeded to whimper and moan so the sounds reverberated through Lan Zhan’s skin.

Again, Lan Zhan fell apart sooner than expected, gasping and shaking with restrained half-movement. 

Hm. Perhaps letting Lan Zhan always set the rhythm had been more to my benefit than the other way around? There’s definitely something to be said for not being able to anticipate from which direction pleasure would come.

“Wei Ying, please,” Lan Wangji said, chest heaving. “Is… the game over? I have followed the rules.”

“A little longer,” Wei Wuxian said, settling again on Lan Zhan’s thighs to study his flushed skin, rubbing his fingers at drops he had missed.

“...This has...not been the easiest."

“Just a little longer,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, feeling a little pathetic at how much he was reveling in the way the hair on their legs rubbed together.

“Is there nowhere I may hold you?”

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught in his throat. “I…”

“Please,” Lan Zhan’s voice actually cracked, and Wei Wuxian was moved to recklessness.

“...Your hands can’t wander from where I put them, okay?”

Soon they were on their sides. Lan Wangji’s mouth was hot and damp against Wei Wuxian’s neck, chest reassuring and warm against his spine. Both their breathing was still a bit too fast, their hearts slow to settle. Lan Wangji’s thumbs massaged the skin behind his hips, legs tangled together with almost painful intimacy.

Everthing got... very hazy. Wei Wuxian very nearly fell asleep, warm and oddly muffled as the little world inside the tent felt. But when Lan Zhan moved his face, Wei Wuxian could feel the blindfold rub against his ear. It was strikingly obvious, the only piece of dry cloth in an ocean of skin.

And, well. Wei Wuxian did what he always did — the next thing that had to be done. 

He pried Lan Zhan's hands off him and got up. Then, he got dressed. Last, he unraveled three layers of cloth from around Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“See you in the morning,” Wei Wuxian said, avoiding eye contact. 

“Wei Ying, don’t —” Lan Zhan reached for him, but Wei Wuxian was already halfway out and humming to his horde before Lan Zhan could get any other words out. The sounds of ghostly wailing covered up anything else he might have said.

//

Wei Wuxian was tossing and turning so much that he almost didn’t notice when Lan Zhan’s hands appeared at the tent flap. Almost.

“Not in the mood to go again,” Wei Wuxian grunted, exhausted in at least three different ways. Least but most time sensitive being physical.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji climbed in his tent, the tent which he had stopped using for weeks, the tent Wei Wuxian had had to pretty much steal back, because Lan Zhan was a fucking lunatic. A lunatic who of course diligently tied the entry flap behind as he entered without permission or welcome.

“Seriously, I mean it this time,” Wei Wuxian said. “I'm not just saying words.”

“I know, Wei Ying.”

“Then what are you trying to do?” he said, voice sharp. “What, do I have to physically throw you out? Like you threw me that first night?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at that, remaining tense as Lan Wangji laid his bedroll out, nearer than necessary in the space, then dared to lift the blankets over Wei Wuxian to slide even closer.

“...If you try and cleanse me right now, then I’m never giving you a blowjob again,” he said warningly. “I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, then wrapped his arms around him squeezing his covered chest.

Wei Wuxian pressed his eyes shut. “...Let me guess,” he said with withering derision. “You don’t want me to be cold.”

“Mn.”

“Tch.” 

“And I have been cold. Without Wei Ying.”

With a melodramatic sigh, Wei Wuxian finally turned around, smushing his face into Lan Zhan’s chest. Lan Wangji embraced him harder. 

“You do know that a strategy which revolves around you shaming me into doing something will literally never work,” Wei Wuxian mumbled grouchily, melting against his will. “I’m not going to — to get any warmer than this.”

“I know,” Lan Wangji whispered. “Please, Wei Ying. Let me hold you.” He sounded painfully sincere. 

It took some time for Wei Wuxian to steady his breathing and fall asleep after that.

[nevertheless-moving]

DEMON OF YUNMENG

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Fourteen

He started off small, having Lan Zhan lie about harmless little things in the next town they visited — names, why they were there, things like that.

Wei Wuxian quickly had to admit that such practice was pointless, putting a stop to it nearly immediately. 

In what was, in retrospect, an entirely unsurprising turn of events, Lan Wangji’s deadpan voice and face remained exactly the same telling the truth or lying. It was only a slight increase in tension around his shoulders and mid back — discomfort, Wei Wuxian classified it, that would possibly give him away. And quite frankly there were very few people who would notice that, and even if they did it could easily be ascribed to talking about his sex life in front of a thousand people. 

Sprawled out in his inner robes across the bed in an inn (where Lan Zhan had successfully booked them a room (under fake names but not really identities) (it was impossible for Lan Zhan to hide the fact that he was a cultivator)), he finally examined the pamphlet detailing the accusations against him that Jin Guangshun had so generously paid to be copied and distributed.

“Ugh, okay... So the one with a baby is a shopkeeper's daughter who I supposedly jumped one night, when we were campaigning just west of... Yunping? I fought near Yunping City?”

“Mn.”

“Fuck, I don't remember that,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his chin. “Were we in camp together?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji was kneeling at the room’s table fully dressed, paper and ink ready to take notes.

“Sweet! You don't happen to remember if our tents were near each other or anything?”

“You were never set a tent. Slept besides your work, if at all.”

“Ah, one of those.” Wei Wuxian squinted, trying to remember. A lot of his recollections of the sunshot campaign were an unending blur of corpses at various levels of decomposition, but he had a feeling that Lan Wangji wouldn’t appreciate him sharing that. “No wonder I don't remember. Well, shit, no one's going to believe you fucked me in a grave.”

“River.”

“Eh?” Wei Wuxian blinked.

“River nearby. Could have found you at night, flown you to water and back. No one approached your raising grounds. Your absence would not have been noticed until morning. I often rose earliest among our peers, would not have been strange for me to be walking camp at dawn.”

“Alright!" Wei Wuxian said encouragingly. "Though, I'm still not sure that would be..." Wei Wuxian trailed off, thinking about just how filthy he had gotten at points during the war.

“Could have scrubbed you until the gravedirt was gone.” Lan Wangji’s expression was blank, eyes far away. “Carried soaps. Hair oils. Sandalwood incense for meditation. Replaced smell of blood was replaced with my scents.”

“Uh.”

“Had you on the riverbank raw, but clean. Cleaned you again after.”

“Cleaned me again?” Wei Wuxian’s skin prickled. “A bit cold to wash in a river twice in one night. Aha.”

“Would not have cleaned you with water the second time. Flown us back before anyone noticed. No time to see shopkeeper's daughter.”

“You — but I could have seen the shopkeeper's daughter a different —”

“No.”

“No?”

“Every night.”

“Every night?”

“Mn.”

“Oh.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Well!” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, pulling his eyes from Lan Zhan’s face and re-examining the paper. “Probably no one's going to ask us that much detail, right? We — we, ha, we don't have to get too creative, do we? As long as you can say you were with me at night there too then we're golden.”

“...Mn.”

“Not that being creative is a bad thing, Lan Zhan!” he added hurriedly. “A little — a little surprising, maybe — ha, who knew you had such creativity in you! Not me! Or should I say who know you had such creativity in me haha.”

“...” The tips of Lan Wangji's ears were pink and he studied the empty note page in front of him unblinkingly. Wei Wuxian forced his eyes back to his own papers once again. They should at least try to do some actual preparation, shouldn't they? Right?

“Bad joke." Wei Wuxian said with a brief, awkward laugh. "That was a poor joke, I'm not even upset you didn't laugh at that one! You know me, I say things. Wow, it's gotten warm in here, hasn't it? You wouldn't think just sharing a room would make it so much warmer, but it really does. Though again, I could be warm for other reasons, haha. Really, Lan Zhan, who knew you were imaginative!” 

“...”

“Actually, probably once things get started no one's going to ask details about anything. That’s an important rule of lying, Lan Zhan, brevity. Don’t over explain without reason. Not that you need much help with that, ha. More realistic to just simplify things 'you were with me every night we were in the same camp, and we made a point to be in the same camp as much as possible, and it was all the times that I was accused.. so...you can just say something that, right?”

“Mn.”

“Yeah, we don't really need to go through the list, honestly. Not a good use of time to worry about questions no one in their right mind would ever ask us.”

“...”

Wei Wuxian's forced himself to actually read the places and names on the paper he had been staring at. He sucked the inside of his cheek, wetting his dry mouth. “You don't — ha, you don't happen to remember if there was a river near, uh 'Fufeng Town' do you? I apparently made eyes at a painter there, and then after battle one time —”

“No river.”

“Oh. Oh well, that's —”

“Hills,” Lan Wangji said, looking up.

“Hills?” Wei Wuxian asked, unable to not look at him, barely managing to avoid his gaze.

“Terrain meant camp was disjointed. Spread out. Gusu party was small — only me and two others. Not near Jiang, but your tent was always far others. Not difficult for me to leave my tent and find yours unseen, with the guard patrol stretched as it was.”

“I see.”

“Hills echoed sometimes. We would not be seen, but could have been heard. Would have needed good silencing talismans.”

“Right after a battle? When I had been making talismans all day?" Wei stared at Lan Wangji's hands. One was holding an inkstick, but it hadn't moved in some time. The knuckles were white. Wei Wuxian swallowed. "Aiyah, Lan Zhan," he said weakly. "I'm only human.”

“Mn." A twitch of Lan Wangji's fingers. "Would have had to kept you quiet another way."

“What, just me?”

“…”

“Okay, point taken.”

“Put cloth in your mouth, or length of wood for you to bite down on. Chenquing, or one of our inner robes. Would not have been wasteful if the cloth was already soiled.”

“Hn.” Wei Wuxian covered his mouth. But it was too late, the sound had already escaped, and after all his careful effort, his gaze had jumped too far up. Lan Wangji’s eyes locked with his.

//

Their experiment in remaining quiet without the aid of privacy talismans was perhaps not entirely successful. But whatever, they were staying in the room under false names and even if someone figured them out, it would probably reach Lanling after the trial and bolster their cause.

"Wow," Wei Wuxian breathed out, staring at the ceiling dreamily, nipples burning from persistent attention, collarbone sore with bruises in the shape of teeth, cock noticeably chafed, even at rest within Lan Zhan's nicest silk pants.

"Mn."

"Lan Zhan is... very imaginative."

"Mm."

"...Hey, Lan Zhan."

“Wei Ying.”

“Remember when we were in the woods the first, uh, third or fourth time we kissed? And you started listing things that you felt guilty about?”

Lan Wangji’s gut clenched, something Wei Wuxian only knew because his head was resting on top of it. He grinned, flipping over so both arms were folded across the bare length of Lan Zhan’s stomach, one elbow at his sternum, the other delicately brushing where a dark trail of hair met low slung pants. He rested his head in the center, turning sideways to inspect Lan Zhan’s smooth face.

“You remember, right?” he prodded again.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji said, chest barely moving.

“You started saying something about what you did in the privacy of your own room.”

“...”

“And I stopped you, because obviously that’s nothing you should feel guilty about.”

“...” Lan Wangji's gaze dropped, breaking eye contact. This could've been avoidance, but could have also just been simple distraction, as Wei Wuxian's underrobe was gaping open at the chest, only closing at his waist belt and leaving a tremendous amount of skin on display.

“Lan Zhan, come on,” he whined. “I reaaallly want to know the thoughts Lan Er-Gege felt guilty about. Springbooks are forbidden, right? But Er-Gege is so creative…just one old shameful fantasy. Just tell me your favorite ones.”

The tips of Lan Zhan’s ears were largely obscured by loose hair, but red was definitely starting to peek through. Even more interestingly, his heart rate had started to pick up underneath Wei Wuxian's palms.

“Come on,” he coaxed, fingers starting to drift lazily across marble skin. “I promise I won’t make fun of you. I might even like them, who knows.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, heart pounding even as his face remained impassive. “Just said some,” he offered after a long pause.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Yeah, but those aren't actually embarrassing, are they? And there's no way you started being into me during the war, right? Did young Lan Zhan think about me? Touch himself to the thought of my lithe muscles? When did that start? After we fought the Xuanwu together, and I stripped to one layer after heroically prying you from the jaws of death? When I was an innocent student at cloud recesses, naively leaning across a table to tease you? Is that why you stopped coming to class? You were unable to face me after spending in your pants to the thought of my nubile body?”

Lan Wangi’s heartbeat sped up further, pink starting to blossom in his exposed chest. 

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian gasped. “No way. Is it?” Wei Wuxian asked, all but shaking with delight.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes, exhaling. “The disrespect was not intentional.” 

“Not intentional?” He repeated, lifting his chest and splaying his palms across Lan Zhan’s front. “Not intentional! You accidentally touched yourself to me?! Was Lan Er-Gege doing his evening rituals when his mind could not help but conjure up an image of my naked form approaching you in the cold springs, icy water making my nipples pebble`?” 

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji scolded.

“Hmm, yeah,” Wei Wuxian sighed, dropping his head back down to Lan Zhan’s chest, reveling at the sound of his heart racing. “You were way too wound up at fifteen to be touching yourself if you thought there was any chance your focus would drift from pure yang energy flows or whatever… really it’s hard to imagine you losing control of your thoughts like that… Wait!” He lifted his chin, thrilled beyond description. “Did you dream of me? Scandalously?!” Is that the reason you stopped coming to classes?”

“...”

“Is it?”

“...”

“Is it?!”

“...Part of the reason.”

Wei Wuxian bit his tongue, determined to keep his word.

“Can feel Wei Ying shaking,” Lan Wangji said with a sigh.

He buried his face in Lan Zhan’s chest to muffle whatever small fit of laughter might escape. Once he steadied himself, he looked up, inhaling deeply. Then he made the mistake of glancing right, where, of course, Lan Zhan’s pants were tenting, and had to again hide his face in Lan Zhan’s stomach and giggle helplessly once more.

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian finally managed, taking several deep breaths. “Okay you have to tell me that dream right now.”

Lan Wangji had come up on his elbows to stare disapprovingly at him while he shamelessly broke his promise not to make fun, but it was a fond sort of disapproving look, golden eyes softening ever so gently. 

“...No.”

“No!” Wei Wuxian protested. “You have to! I might like it, you don’t know!”

“Do know,” he said, gaze shifting away.

“Ahh,” Wei Wuxian said with a sigh. “Right, right.” He fidgeted, fingers tapping as he looked away. “I really don’t know how to explain the other night,” he said honestly, talking directly to Lan Zhan’s cock, who was after all the one getting the short end of the stick in this. After Wei Wuxian’s cock anyway. 

“Wei Ying does not have to explain,” Lan Wangji said stiffly. “I am the one who has pushed inappropriately.”

“That’s a little close to apologizing,” Wei Wuxian warned, turning back towards his face.

Lan Zhan gave him a look accusing him of the same thing.

“Okay,” he said, changing course. “You had to have had some thoughts about my mouth over the years though, right? Making me shut up?”

Lan Wangji’s ears went red. 

Wei Wuxian grinned. “I knew it! When? When I talked back in class? When I was copying rules? When I kept talking during indoctrination? When I argued with you about coming to Gusu? Just tell me about one time! One meeting when your mind wandered to something dirty, one fantasy late at night…”

Lan Wangji’s heart beat faster still. He took a slow, quiet breath. 

Wei Wuxian’s hand drifted lower.

“...Now,” Lan Wangji said in a level tone.

“Now?”

“Now. When Wei Ying’s mouth is close to my penis, but he is talking instead of sucking, even though he wants to”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped, shocked by the crudity. Lan Wangji took immediate advantage, reaching forward to cradle his cheek and slip a thumb past his lips.

“Lan Er-Gege is very sure of himself,” he mumbled around Lan Zhan’s thumb, heat rising in his face.

“Wei Ying is very enthusiastic. And gifted with his mouth,” Lan Wangji retorted, slowly running that same thumb across the inside of his bottom lip, which these days felt nearly permanently swollen and tender with Lan Zhan’s frequent nipping.

He licked the skin between Lan Wangji’s thumb and forefinger. “Hm,” he said, hand moving in gradually lower circles down Lan Zhan’s stomach. “And that is your favorite thing for my mouth to do, huh?”

“No,” Lan Zhan said, ears reddening as soon as he said it.

“No?” Wei Wuxian moved his head, Lan Zhan’s fingers slipping out. “Kissing? Lan Er-Gege likes kissing more than having his dick in my mouth?”

“...”

“I know it's not my flute playing, don't try and pull that.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, gently running the tips of his fingers down the front of Wei Wuxian's throat. “...Laughing.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “You like when I laugh,” he said, incredulous. “Lan Zhan, half of my laughing over the last weeks has been at your expense!”

“More than half,” Lan Wangji corrected neutrally.

Wei Wuxian stared at him. Having carefully studied his attempts at lying, he was fairly certain Lan Zhan was telling the truth. 

Wow, he thought. Lan Zhan is really a freak.

“You’re not just saying that to get me to suck your dick, are you?” Wei Wuxian said finally.

“Wei Ying wants to suck my dick, I do not have to say things to ‘get’ him to do so.”

“Well lots of people like things they’re good at,” Wei Wuxian huffed, squirming a little. “No reason for you to be vain about it.”

Lan Wangji cradled Wei Wuxian’s face in one large hand, tucked his loose hair behind his ears, stroked his cheekbone tenderly, then began pushing him inextricably downward.

Wei Wuxian laughed at the incongruity.

“Er-Gege really is a brute,” he sighed, fingers dancing at Lan Wangji’s waistband and tugging down. 

Lan Wangji obligingly lifted his hips to help, allowing his pants to be pulled off completely, then spread his legs, leaving room to settle between. He even shifted up on the bed so his back rested against the wall, giving him a better view.

Wei Wuxian snorted at the casual, hedonistic arrogance of the move, then laid down in the space that had been made, unhurriedly getting comfortable.

“How many times can he come in a day,” he said, genuinely marveling as he rested his cheek on Lan Wangi's inner thigh, breathing on Lan Zhan's apparently untiring dick and watching it twitch. “Seriously,” he said, looking up. “What's your record? You have to remember, right?”

“Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan.”

“Focus.” His leg bounced to nudge Wei Wuxian back in the right direction, and Wei Wuxian was helpless once again to keep from cracking up. Lan Zhan waited for him to finish, then took himself in hand and guided himself between Wei Wuxian’s lips.

//

Several night’s later again found them in an inn, still aways from Carp Tower, but now within the borders of Lanling’s more established territory. The horde was reaching the limits of what Wei Wuxian could manage, so he was being choosier about who he added. As such, he had decided to spend even more time focusing on the significantly more fun original plan.

After spending a not unpleasant few hours seriously discussing  what verbal defenses would be likely to work well in front of the cultivation world, running through the challenges and accusations that might be slung at them, he pulled out all the stops, pressing again for one of Lan Zhan’s fantasies. 

Ears increasingly pink, Lan Zhan eventually got annoyed enough to shove him off his lap. When Wei Wuxian tried to get back up, he was unceremoniously shoved back down again. It took a third attempt for it to click, finally realizing that the height of the chair Lan Zhan was sitting on relative to where Wei Wuxian knelt on the floor. Though the man didn't exactly make it easy; Wei Wuxian was forced to crawl under the table to get between barely open legs.

He managed to get Lan Zhan's cock out of his pants and into his mouth, almost getting jabbed in the eye for his troubles. He thrilled when Lan Zhan's legs closed around his head, only to grow disappointed when they relaxed and... nothing happened. Wei Wuxian tried moving, sucking, licking, swallowing — anything to incite action. But Lan Zhan jerked warningly on his hair each time so eventually he just huffed in frustration and settled in. 

Initially, the beginning sound of writing filled him with indignation — sure, he wanted Lan Zhan to get less intense about orgasms, that didn't mean it was alright to ignore the guy whose mouth was holding your dick! He very nearly flared resentment in protest, but he forced himself to think through the inadequately unexplained “fantasy” a bit more. Imagining Lan Zhan lecturing or filling out night hunt reports, sitting attentively at a meeting while Wei Wuxian was hidden below like this…

Or not hidden? Most tables high enough for chairs still wouldn’t actually obscure my body — this one certainly doesn't. If a servant walked in the room right at this moment, to bring hard working Hunguang-Jun a meal, they would immediately see what was happening!

It would only be as they approached the table that he would be obscured from view, even as faint, wet sounds became apparent. If Lan Er-Gongzi had a meeting, the person sitting across the desk would be EXTREMELY aware that Yunmeng Zhi Mo was under the table with Hunguang-Jun’s cock in his mouth.

By the time Lan Zhan finished whatever it was that he was writing, put the brush down, and finished himself off with a series of almost leisurely thrusts into Wei Wuaxian’s mouth, an embarrassing amount of drool had dribbled down Wei Wuxian’s front, and he was absolutely fucking rock hard. Lan Wangji’s breathing quickened at the sight, eyes going to pin pricks as he all but threw — okay, he literally threw Wei Wuxian on to the table, lifting his legs high and yanking him forward so he could mouth at Wei Wuxian’s cock through his pants, hands massaging his ass. 

Each day brought Wei Wuxian closer to taking the risk of blindfolding Lan Zhan and hoping that against all odds the man's increasingly greedy hands somehow wouldn’t wander over the raised edges of a suspiciously straight scar. …Maybe he could tie Lan Zhan up? But what rope would actually hold him? It would probably still work if Lan Zhan was in perfect control of himself, but honestly. What would even be the point of doing with Lan Zhan if there wasn't even a chance of him losing restraint?

“One day I’m going to find a stack of cutsleeve springbooks hidden in your stuff, and then I’ll be significantly less impressed with your creativity,” Wei Wuian mumbled, laying on top of Lan Zhan in bed. He had dressed in a sadly high collared (the downside of staying in towns was it actually made it paradoxically difficult for Lan Zhan to discreetly do their laundry) but sleeveless robe, pants, and, of course, belt.

“Mm.” Lan Wangji, wearing nothing, replied noncommittally, tracing repeating patterns across the exposed skin of Wei Wuxian's arms.

“Any other ideas?”

“...”

“Not for right now,” Wei Wuxian laughed into Lan Zhan’s neck. “I mean in general.”

Lan Wangji’s heart picked up.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Unless you did have something right now?”

“It is not. Specifically sexual,” Lan Wangji said after a long pause.

“Not specifically?”

“...For after.”

“You mean after sex stuff, right?”

“...Mn. Or… other times at rest.”

“Well don’t keep talking around the idea!” Wei Wuxian said, curiosity peaked. “What is it?”

“...” 

Lan Wangj’s heartrate picked up another fraction and Wei Wuxian lifted himself to glance at his face. No pink embarrassment in his cheeks or red horniness in the ears, no hungry heat in the eyes. Was his expression extra blank? Wei Wuxian was fairly sure extra blank was usually bad in a fear sort of way. Anger and frustration were generally allowed the more traditional signs, though that could cover up other stuff... Fuck, I need to start taking notes on this shit.

“Lan Zhan.” he smiled, pressing a hand over the left side of Lan Zhan’s thudding chest. “Come on. It’s me. I’m shameless, remember?”

Lan Wangji exhaled, using his thumb to trace a line down Wei Wuxian’s arm.

“I… understand that… Wei Ying needs to be safe. From threats.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile slipped. Oh, bad feeling about this.

“And that during relations. I am often. Not disciplined.”

“Which I like,” Wei Wuxian said, a bit too sharp. “So there’s nothing to change there.”

Lan Wangji, to his surprise, nodded. “Mn. Not asking Wei Ying to change anything during. Wei Ying’s safety is most important. But after…” he took a breath, stroking Wei Wuxians hand.

With a chill, Wei Wuxian suddenly realized what he had been tracing.

“Lan Zhan…” he said unhappily.

“After,” Lan Wangji said, pushing forward. “If he could let go of some of the resentment he carries. For a time. Until dawn.”

Heart racing, Wei Wuxian rolled off him and pulled his hands tight to his chest

“Just while you rest.” Lan Wangji continues. “You can set wards. I will stand guard. You would be safe.”

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, swallowing the sourness in his throat. He involuntarily traced the line that Lan Wangji had found on his arm. A sweeping sword wound whose edges he had stuck closed so fast that it hadn’t had time to scar. One of countless injuries that he didn’t even think about holding together anymore, not really. All but invisible. Such a thin seam of resentment that one would have to spend hours upon hours studying his body to notice.

“How many times are we going to argue about this,” Wei Wuxian asked bitterly. “What will it take for Lan Zhan to let it go?”

“Wei Ying, please,” Lan Wangji said, reaching for him. Wei Wuxian sat up, pulling away, but Lan Zhan just kept talking. “I can feel the resentment. It is everywhere in you. It makes you cold. It is unnatural. It is hurting you.”

“Lan Er-Gongzi doesn’t understand what he is lecturing about,” Wei Wuxian grit out. “Didn’t he just acknowledge that it gave me strength?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji admitted quietly. “It makes you strong. But the cost is not worth it, Wei Ying. The sunshot campaign is won. Will you not at least try to see how it feels? For a few hours. I know you carried more resentment during the war — is it so impossible for you to carry still less? For a night? Do you remember what it is to be warm?”

Wei Wuxian took several shuddering breaths, pulse loud in his ears. “Lan Zhan has thought about this. What to say. How to say it. A challenge. A compromise. Words I might listen to.”

“...”

“I suppose it is not very comfortable for Lan er-Gege to hold someone so cold,” Wei Wuxian said, tone subdued.

“Not asking for myself,” Lan Wangji said quickly, and Wei Wuxian didn’t think he was lying. Or at least Lan Zhan believed he was telling the truth.

“Mm. But it is uncomfortable for Lan Zhan, right?” he pressed, not turning around. “It’s alright when we’re moving, or when we were in separate bedrolls, but when we’re sharing a bed… it feels wrong. Unnatural.”

“Wei Ying —”

“I’m not angry,” Wei Wuxian said, and to his surprise, he really wasn’t. It truly was a thoughtful compromise. Lan Zhan was bending very far. He had learned quite a lot about Wei Wuxian’s body and the resentment it held  — as much as Wei Wuxian was willing for him to know and a little more. And he was handling it surprisingly well. “I just hadn’t fully thought about how it would feel for Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji reached forward, tentatively taking his hand. 

Wei Wuxian was abruptly, acutely, painfully aware of that hand. 

Aware that the skin by his fingertips was too thin, that it had long been rubbed raw in an attempt to carve bamboo without tools, and was only being held together by a gossamer layer of resentment. Aware of a nearly severed finger, bitten to the bone at the beginning, or almost the beginning — there was a visible scar for that one, he had still been mastering things. Aware of a carefully sealed hole piercing from one side to another, from… hm. ...Later? 

Actually he didn’t remember how that had happened. Bones and tendons and skin held tidily in place — that must have been later, every  connection was perfect  — did someone shoot a fucking arrow through his hand? He massaged it curiously, distracted by the small mystery — no, it seemed more like a stab wound — he must have put his hand up in front of him on the battlefield. 

His arms were worse — he didn’t remember landing after Wen Chao pushed him, but based on what had shattered, arms must have been more involved than hands, especially his left. There were veritable spiderwebs of yin energy holding his bones in one piece; Wen Qing’s lips had thinned to a line when she had pushed a dozen fragments into better order, gods, he had almost kissed her for that. Though, actually, it was really her fault that were so many scars he had forgotten, as close to painless as she had wrangled them.

And all that resentment was before what he held on to for practical use! Generally in his hollow core and meridians where it could serve the double purpose of repelling anyone who might try to check his spiritual energy, but he could cram it pretty much anywhere in a pinch, depending on how much he could scavenge, what he thought would be needed…and he had been amassing more power, in preparation for the trial...

Lan Wangji’s hand thrummed with the subtle flow of spiritual energy. Wei Wuxian squeezed it, sighing. Lan Zhan felt... warm. Hot. Wei Wuxian knew that. Wei Wuxian had been very deliberately not thinking about the obvious corollary to that information, hadn't he?

“The resentment is not… the most comfortable to be near…” Lan Wangji said haltingly. “But that is not why I ask, Wei Ying.”

“I know, Lan Zhan,” he said heavily. “I get it.” He let go of Lan Wangjis hand and swung off the edge of the bed, standing up.

“Wei Ying?”

“Let’s try this for a night,” Wei Wuxian said, getting into the other bed.

“Wei Ying, that is not what I want,” he said, voice tight.

“Yeah, well.” Some of the bite came back into Wei Wuxians speech. He was really sick of this argument. “That’s what I can do. I can still suck you off in the morning.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Okay, fine, we’ll both get off, relax, whatever, you know what I mean. This is just for sleeping.”

“...You will not even consider it?”

“If you keep asking then the likelihood of me sucking you off tomorrow is going to decrease,” Wei Wuxian snapped. 

Lan Wangji fell silent at that grave threat, and Wei Wuxian turned over, pulling the blankets over his head.

“...You are being a fool.”

Wei Wuxian sat upright. “Insulting me is not going to help!” he said, incredulous. 

Lan Wangji also sat up on his bed, meeting his eyes head on, features stern and sharp in the moon-lit room. “Wei Ying has said that he can be a fool on certain things, and blind to it. That it is the trade off for his genius on other matters. This is one of those times. You are being a fool and it is hurting you.”

“When the hell did I say that?” Wei Wuxian asked, offended.

Lan Wangji’s hands tightened on the sheets. “Wei Ying’s memory is very bad,” he said quietly.

“Oh fuck you!" Wei Wuxian got up, pulling Chenqing out.

Lan Zhan started to say something else, but Wei Wuxian played over him, focusing on his horde. Somewhere between six and seven hundred souls writhed in their spirit bags, enough that there wasn’t really such a thing as too much reinforcement.

It was a delicate balance, keeping them pacified but not moving on, interested in blood but not frenzied. The vast majority weren’t strong enough to pose much of a threat to an ordinary person, let alone a cultivator. Not unless he fed them additional resentment or provided them avatars to possess, which he didn’t plan on doing. Not unless things really went to shit. 

But in any case, they would make one hell of a terrifying distraction! If he had to flee the Jinaghu like a coward, if he had to abandon the sect that had given him a life, if he had to leave everything and everyone he cared about, everything he had ever fought for behind — well.

He would do it with style worthy of one titled Demon.

[nevertheless-moving]

And a hard-boiled egg (Buy the print here or check out my patreon and ko-fi!!!) [ID, courtesy of @jesperr-fahey: an animated fanart gif of Sam Vimes, from the discworld book Night Watch. he’s in an overgrown graveyard at night, sitting on top of one of the stones. he looks tired and unfocused, tossing an egg up and down in one hand, holding a lit cigar in his other hand, smoke drifting up from it. lilac trees bloom around him, and the lights of the city can be seen in the distance behind him. END ID]

[nevertheless-moving]

Imagine being a knight radiant on the battlefield and the lightweaver next to you just mutters "I'm into piss" and their lightweaving gets visibly better

[nevertheless-moving]

pre-reveal shenanigans my beloved

[nevertheless-moving]

seeing strange fetishes im not into on my dash is like observing an edible herb on a walk. Hmm. someone wise ☝ could make use of this... but i shan't 👴

you paint such a beautiful picture with your words anon thank you

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Thirteen

Yeah, he had definitely overdone it on range — they were lucky that the compass hadn’t just brought them to the fucking burial mounds. Still, Lan Zhan’s stamina was as impressive as his speed, and if Wei Wuxian clung to him too hard as they flew, well. That could have just been him being wanton.

They managed to triangulate the source to a high mountain cave whose entrance was, indeed, heavy with resentment. Even if there had been corpses strewn at the rocky shelf, as the growing whispers suggested there should be, the cold would have desiccated their bodies. So the scent of blood in the air was just a memory, a hundred hundred deaths echoing over one another.

Perfect.

Wei Wuxian pulled out Chenqing, coaxing out a few of the more coherent spirits from the miasma. 

“Can play Inquiry,” Lan Wangji said.

“No need,” Wei Wuxian replied, as ghosts clambered over each other to bemoan their fate directly into his skull. “They’re eager to share. It’s a Nian. These poor bastards were between towns during the turn of the year and weren’t protected.”

They both studied the cave entrance in silence.

“Are you familiar with one being killed?” Lan Wangji finally asked.

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No... no they’re easy enough for regular people to scare away that I don’t think most cultivators bother hunting them.”

They studied the cave entrance again.

“We could return with more cultivators,” Lan Wangji said.

“Hm. Yeah, Hold on a second —” he blew several notes, ignoring Lan Wangji’s thinned lips. Again, the dead were eager to complain. “Yeah, they were all — wait — okay almost all taken during one New Years celebration or another. So not much risk if we leave it a few months. Wow, this thing must be a thousand years old, easy. Or maybe there's been generations living here? Okay, if you all talk at once its not going to help me understand.”

“Inquiry is safer,” Lan Wangji said. 

“I’m not going to get possessed, Lan Zhan, give me some credit.”

“Still taking resentment into your body.”

“A skill I am, by all definitions, a master of,” Wei Wuxian said impatiently. “Lan Zhan, can we not do this right now?” 

“When would Wei Ying prefer to do it?”

Wei Wuxian grinned. 

“Wei Ying.”

“Look, the thing is probably asleep. I’ll prepare some obnoxiously loud, flashy talismans and if it ends up being too hard a fight we can scare it further into its cave and get out of there, but these guys —” He jerked his thumb up and behind him. “Are really not going to be able to grasp the idea of noble heroes waiting before killing the thing that ripped them to shreds.”

Lan Wangji eyed the slowly congealing mass of resentment starting to spiral around Wei Wuxian. 

“They will move on once the beast is dead?” Lan Wangji asked.

“They won’t move on with it alive," Wei Wuxian replied. 

//

“Wei Ying.”

“...”

“Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan, I said I really needed to focus with these.”

“Why does Wei Ying not use cinnabar?” 

“I don’t like the color.”

“...”

“Blood is more powerful, alright! Why would I use a more expensive, less powerful option when my body literally makes the best conduit for spiritual energy for free? I know it’s not considered orthodox best practice, but poor cultivators use blood all the time, it’s not specifically demonic.” 

“...”

“Lan Zhan! What the fuck!”

“Wei Ying said blood is more powerful.”

“I — sure, but I very obviously was not asking — Lan Zhan! Stop cutting yourself!”

“Blood is flowing regardless of if Wei Ying uses it or not.”

“Fuck — fine, whatever, give me five seconds to get a vial or something, you complete nutjob.”

“...”

“Don’t look sarcastically at me. Writing with my own blood is way less creepy than going around taking other people’s.”

“...”

“Yeah, yeah, you offered it, but still! Not a good habit Lan Zhan! Do you have any idea what sort of spells I could cast on you with freely given blood!”

“Trust Wei Ying.”

“Not a strong defense of your sanity. Okay, no more surprises, seriously these are finicky. There’s a reason I prefer gui.”

“...”

“Disapproving glares count as distractions!”

//

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian said sometime later, flexing the cold out of his fingers. “I think we’re good.” He spun Chenqing to work his hands, letting the increasingly eager horde crowd closer. More had flowed out of the cave while he had worked, drawn by humming and ripples of purpose. “Ready to defeat another legendary monster?”

Lan Wangji stared at a particularly excited and coherent ghost who had their hands on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and was all but bouncing with excitement. Ah, nothing like getting to kill the thing that killed you to make someone’s afternoon.

“....Wei Ying does not have his sword.”

“Oh for fucks sake.” Wei Wuxian put a hand to his face, groaning. “Lan Zhan, even before I started cultivating gui dao, it’s not like I needed a sword to win a fight. Or do you not remember literally the first time we met ? The Cave of Xunawu of Slaugher?”

“I remember. Those were less dangerous.”

“Less dangerous,” Wei Wuxian repeated flatly.

Lan Wangji nodded, drawing himself up. “Less dangerous to your soul than fighting a beast with the anger of those who it killed.”

Wei Wuxian threw his hands in the air, sending some of the more formless spirits skittering backwards. “Lan Zhan, I’m not going to suddenly return to the sword path! I’m not going to ignore literally the perfect opportunity to fight resentment with resentment. If you don’t like it than fight the fucking thing on your own.”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Okay, I walked right into that one. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and considering.

“Fine,” he said slowly. “You can fight it on your own. But you have to swear not to do anything stupid just because you don’t want me getting the hems of your nice white Lan robes dirty.”

“Mn.”

“If you even think you might be outmatched you use one of my talismans.”

“Mn.”

“And if I run in there to back you up because I sense it's going badly then you don’t waste time yelling at me if I make its victims crawl back up its throat.”

“...”

“I’m not arguing on that one.” He poked a finger at Lan Zhan’s chest for emphasis. “I’ll let you take a first swing, but I’m not going to hesitate to jump in if I think it’s needed, and I’m not going to change my methods to suit your preferences. If you can't accept that then I’ll go in there without you.”

“...Mn.”

“Great.” He shoved a small stack of firework talismans at Lan Zhan’s chest. “Rip one with intent or send a deliberate jolt of spiritual energy through; it will activate five seconds later, so I recomend throwing it fast, or at least not looking straight at it."

Lan Wangji nodded, gingerly tucking three into each sleeve pocket.

They stared at one another. Cold wind caught their robes.

“What?” Wei Wuxian said, folding his arms. “You want a kiss for good luck? Noble cultivator going to slay the evil dragon while his worried wife waits for him to return from battle?”

Lan Wangji looked down, tips of his ears pinking. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Wei Wuxian muttered, stepping in and grabbing his collar. “How the hell can you look like a kitten whose tail I stepped on without changing your expression?”

He pressed a firm, but decidedly closed mouth to Lan Zhan’s lips. When Lan Zhan’s arms came around him he allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy, but pushed back when his hands inevitably started sliding downward.

“I can not believe that Hungaung-Jun has secretly been this lustful creature all along,” Wei Wuxian said, smirking. “On the bloodstained steps outside the monster’s cave? With the dead watching?”

Lan Wangji glanced pointedly around at the blood free ground. 

“Lan Zhan.”

He looked even more pointedly at the lingering spirits, hand moving towards his gunquin.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. “Ah! Lan Zhan!” he gasped between laughs. “Ahhaa! Lan Er-Gongzi! Ha! Shameless!”

“Mm.” Lan Zhan nodded, then turned and walked into the cave without further witty comments.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, snorting, then cracked his fingers and turned to study the confused mob. 

“Okay,” he said, bringing Chenqing up to his mouth. “Who wants to thank the cultivators who are freeing their souls from their unhallowed resting place while also getting to shed blood?” 

//

Various monstrous noises came from within the cave while he worked; it became clear soon enough that Lan Zhan had the upper hand, so Wei Wuxian gradually shifted focus from listening for calls for aid over to wrangling several centuries of resentful spirits into a new common cause.

He had nearly finished by the time Lan Wangji emerged, only slightly worse for the wear,

“Wei Ying. What are you doing?” he asked as soon as he came into view.

Wei Wuxian finished the riff, then sealed off a line of talismans with quick strokes, watching them flash red with satisfaction.

“Trapping the Nian’s victims so I can call on them later, isn’t it obvious?” he said. “How did the fight go? Sounded like you only used two of my talismans so it must have been pretty straightforward, right? Was it sleeping?”

“Wei Ying. Why.” 

He sighed. Yeah, I didn’t think I was going to get out of this conversation. 

“Lan Zhan, aren’t you tired of having the same argument and getting nowhere?”

“Their souls need to move on,” Lan Wangji said, stepping closer. “We can perform rites. Let them reincarnate. Do not do this.”

Wei Wuxian pressed his hands together in front of his face, inhaling. “Lan Wangji,” he said slowly. “I assure you, their souls are not damaged by my traps. I will release them in less than a month, hopefully with less resentment to cloud their rest, but certainly with no more.”

Lan Wangji's breath puffed in front of him when he exhaled. "This is why you didn't argue about fighting the best with me."

Wei Wuxian shrugged.

“You plan on using them.” Lan Wangji’s expression was cold. “At the conference.”

“If necessary.” Wei Wuxian crouched down again, whistling to call in the last stragglers, patting the pieces of talisman paper that would temporarily home them.

“Wei Ying.”

He ignored Lan Zhan, bringing Chenqing back to his lips and focusing on the final seals.

“...This is what the compass was for.” Lan Wangji said hollowly.

Whispers ebbed away as the last spell finished. The wind quieted, and Wei Wuxian looked around with some satisfaction.

I'd like to see someone else cleanse that much resentment as cleanly as I just did, given ten times the time.

“Wei Ying.”

“I mean not the initial idea,” he said, cracking his back. “I've been playing with the thought for ages, can you imagine how useful it willbe during night hunts? And It's not like anyone beside me would be able to use it for this specific purpose. But is it why I've been focusing so hard on it the last several days? Yeah, of course.”

Lan Wangji clenched his sword. “Wei Ying said he did not want a fight.”

“That doesn't mean one won't happen anyway!” Wei Wuxian replied, throwing his hands in the air.

Lan Wangji stepped closer, eyes intent. “I will not abandon you. My brother will not abandon me. You do not need these tricks.”

“That's great. Really, it is,” Wei Wuxian said, forcing himself not to yell. “But Lan zhan, I could get jumped the second I step inside that tower. I could get jumped before that.”

Lan Wangji froze even further. 

“Oh man, it really didn’t occur to you,” Wei Wuxian dragged a hand down his face. “Lan Zhan, this whole fucking thing could be a very simple trap. Whose word would the Jianghu believe if a bunch of Jin got in a fight with me in a conveniently isolated place?”

The idea very clearly had not occurred to Lan Zhan, who stared blankly at him. Wei Wuxian battered down a mix of pity and annoyance. 

“I would protect you,” Lan Wangjj finally said.

“Hunguang-Jun is very noble. But that’s an extremely fucking stupid idea.”

Lan Wangji stared at him, expression void of movement. Wei Wuxian had the sinking suspicion that his feelings were hurt.

“I’m talking about before we do our whole song and dance.” Wei Wuxian said, not sure if he was trying to make Lan Zhan feel better or worse. “If your presence deters them from a sneak attack, fine, great, wonderful. But if I step in that tower and get immediately ambushed, you trying to interfere would just escalate the situation.”

“And a hundred ghosts won’t?” Lan Wangji said cooly

“No! It wouldn’t risk dragging Gusu lan  into another intersect war for no fucking reason!” Wei Wuxian cried. “Come on, Most likely, people would assume I’ve enchanted you, so then people would be mad at me for that too! At least the ghost thing is what people expect from me!”

The line of Lan Wangji's jaw tightened.

“Really, there’s going to be like a thousand cultivators there, and I’m not going to be able to get away with bringing in bodies, it’s not as if they’ll be able to do any real damage.” Wei Wuxian picked up the stack of talismans, carefully tucking them into a spirit bag. “They’re a distraction so I can get out of there without having to kill too many people. Ideally I’ll pick up at least ten times this amount in the next few weeks.”

Lan Wangji stared at him, hands clenched, but eyes lacking the heat that meant it was horny clenching. Wei Wuxian also suspected his grip changed with different emotions, but that would require further study.

“How about we argue about this once we’re not on top of a mountain?” Wei Wuxian finally offered. “It’s fucking cold up here.”

Warily, Lan Wangji eyed the bag stuffed with souls.

“I know how to handle gui, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian said, offended. “Even if you don’t like how I do it, they’re not going to pop out until I want them to. These guys were easy, anyway. The second you killed the beast they basically went to sleep — a quarter of them passed on then and there.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head but moved forward to carry Wei Wuxian down without further argument.

Briefly, Wei Wuxian worried this ride would be excruciatingly awkward.

But the second Lan Zhan offered his hand to pull him up on his sword and touched admittedly freezing skin, focus was redirected. Lan Wangji pulled him in tight, and Wei Wuxian gladly buried his face into a warmchest, shoving his hands under Lan Zhan’s robes shamelessly.

They descended in silence that was peaceful, if only temporarily. 

The next days followed a similar rhythm. Wei Wuxian explained in greater detail the scenarios in which hundreds of ghosts would be extremely helpful. Lan Zhan tried to get him to give up demonic cultivation. Wei Wuxian soothed his growing collection each night, demonstrating his total mastery of his art. Lan Zhan tried to get him to give up demonic cultivation. Wei Wuxian went over how not cruel his spirit traps were. Lan Zhan tried to get him to give up demonic cultivation. Wei Wuxian distracted Lan Zhan by sucking his dick. Afterwards, Lan Zhan tried to get him to give up demonic cultivation.

He had hoped that another pair of pants would rip and provide further diversions, but to his dismay he realized that Lan Zhan must have noticed the weakening fabric while doing the washing, and carefully repaired the seams. Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, thumb traceing the extremely thoughtful and irritating row of stitches.

It’s probably for the best, he tried to tell himself, woefully remembering the best orgasm of his entire life. Last time was a mess. I need to buy some actual open crotch pants, probably with very specific measurements, not just count on Lan Zhan to rip my existing ones the exact right amount. 

Still. Even with the slowly growing energy he had to dedicate to managing his little army, it was hard to forget that sort of sex.

Lan Wangji had also very obviously not forgotten that night, both for better and for worse, and although he seemed determined to get in his own way of actually getting to Wei Wuxian’s asshole, he still paid it as much attention as was possible through clothing, inspiring a tremendous range of sounds. Also earning quite a few more blow jobs, an art which Lan Wangji was happy to assist Wei Wuxians mastery of.

Ever tweaking the range on his compass, they had found their way to a town which had died en masse of famine (score!) and were conveniently eager to blame the cultivation world for their tragedy (double score!); Lan Zhan was once again glaring at each spirit he added to his arsenal.

“For fucks sake,” Wei Wuxian said, cutting off mid-verse. “Just don't watch! Go… wash some pants or something!” 

Lan Wangji’s jaw ticked. “Binding souls like this is immoral,” he said for possibly the millionth time.

“It. Is. Fine,” Wei Wuxian insisted, on his last nerve. “This guy —” He shook one of the straw dolls he had been collecting this hungry batch in. “—Just wants to throw a tantrum at this point, he can't even remember what it's about anymore. It's a win-win — he gets to blow off some steam and maybe move on, I get a good distraction. Lan Zhan, please —”

“Spirits committing violence only tethers -”

“Whaaaat! Really?? Is that how it works?!? Oh, I didn't realize you were an expert on gui! My mistake, I've been getting it all wrong! Of course the peerless Hunguang-jun knows best in all things!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Don't you Wei ying me “ he snapped. “i know what I'm fucking talking about. I'm not going to deny that during the sunshot campaign i prolonged and exacerbated the dead's resentment — that was fucked up, sure, it was war. This isn't even that! This is just temporarily delaying lancing a boil so its juice can be used. Fuck, that's a terrible metaphor. It's redirecting the storm to do some good! I know I already used that one but I stand by it!”

Lan Zhan stared at the luring array Wei Wuxian had drawn out of a desire to rest his throat.

“What can I do so you will not feel the need to use this power,” he asked, voice quiet. “Just... at the conference.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. That was a slightly different tactic. He had gotten used to more or less the same rhetoric over and over again.

“Lan Zhan,” he said softly. “There's nothing else. They'll let us speak or they won't. They’ll believe us or they won’t.”

Lan Wangji’s fists were balled up at his side. “What else can I do. To make sure they believe Wei Ying is innocent.”

Wei Wuxian rubbed his face. “I don't know. As many jokes as i've made, and as entertaining as the idea is, I don't actually think sticking our tongues down each other's throats in front of the surviving culitvation world is going to present a more compelling argument than something more tasteful.”

“Wei Ying must have some idea.”

Exhaling, he gave the question due consideration. “...People might catch on if I tell all the lies and you tell all the truth,” he said reluctantly.  “I guess you could do more of the talking? Lying, I mean, not implying. You could, I don't know, be the one to give the big dramatic speech? And very directly lie to everyone. A lot. ”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded.

“What.”

“I will say what needs to be said. Wei Ying will help me plan.” He glanced at the hovering, slavering spirits. “We will now."

“You're really going to cross that line?" Wei Wuxian said incredulously. "Just to slightly reduce the chance of me using the ghost path more?”

“To protect Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian felt inexplicable heat crawl up his spine. “Okay I know I've been saying this a lot. But you really, really, really don't have to do that.”

Lan Wangji swallowed, taking a step closer. “Want to protect Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes. “I'm not going to stop using the ghost path.” 

“Let me shorten how far you must travel down it,” Lan Wangji said, reaching out to hold his waist far more tentatively than Wei Wuxian had gotten used to. "Please, Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian dropped his head to Lan Zhan’s shoulder, breathing in sandalwood and sweat. “Most people would say that I’m too far gone for it to matter much at this point.”

“I do not care about the opinions of most people.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Yeah,” he said amused. “I’m getting that. Okay. Sure. Let’s teach you how to lie shamelessly.”

Next (Chapter Fifteen)

[nevertheless-moving]

Nevertheless, the turtle moves

Small Gods (Terry Pratchett)

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Twelve

"Ah — ah, Lan Zhan, hold on a second." Wei Wuxian put a hand against the center of Lan Wangji's chest and attempted to lean back. 

Lan Wangji complied slowly, lavishing a final bite on his ear before straightening, messy hair and shiny lips at odds with his smooth expression.

Wei Wuxian steadied himself with an appreciative breath. Even better than staying in a town big enough to sell clothing and copper was staying in a town big enough to have an inn with large beds and fancy bath beans. Not that Lan Zhan had smelled bad before, but still. They had been getting a little musty, what with one thing and another.

Something hard and increasingly familiar pressed upwards on his rear, despite the layers in between them — Lans really wore too many layers. Wei Wuxian squirmed to make sure he could truly feel its full length; he had a feeling Lan Zhan's cock was going to do most of the talking this conversation. 

Lan Wangji rocked into the movement, hands tightening on — wait, no, focus — 

Things might have gotten a little off course when Lan Zhan saw his outfit and jumped him, but Yunmeng Zhi Mo still had very specific and lecherous plans for tonight!

"You know," Wei Wuxian said, trailing his hands along unreasonably firm biceps to tease at the edge of pale blue robes. "Just because I'm not ready to get completely naked yet doesn't mean you can't. If you want." A small twitch of Lan Zhan’s eyes was accompanied by a more easily identifiable twitch from big little Lan Zhan.

"Wei Ying wants that?" he asked, hands tightening on his waist.

"Yeah, you see, I was thinking — how great would it be if someone asked 'how do you put up with a cultivation partner who talks so much' and you could honestly say 'oh it's simple, when he gets annoying I just shove my dick in his mouth.'"

Lan Wangji's ears went red and he hissed an offended, "Ridiculous!" but below his cock practically leaped at the idea.

Wei Wuxian cackled. "Ha, I knew it! You've totally thought about exactly that, haven't you! Aaah, I knew it!!"

Lan Wangji shoved him off his lap, and Wei Wuxian slipped to the floor, still laughing. The Second Lan Jade stood with all the grace and dignity his title could confer and made as if to stalk away, but Wei Wuxian grabbed his legs, holding him in place.

"Heh — wait, ah, wait — I was serious! Come on Er-Gege, I bet I'd be good at it! I'm good at lots of things on the first try and I'm especially good with my mouth!"

A strangled grunt escaped Lan Zhan's throat. Wei Wuxian took that as profound encouragement.

"Really Lan Zhan," he said, less teasing, more matter of fact. "Us turning out to both be cutsleeves — or, I don't know, a torn sleeve, in my case? Whatever. It's really perfect! I know you're not big on deceptions, but let me tell you — the best lies have some basis in truth. The more we actually do together, the less we have to lie about at the trial, right? So it’s better for us to try as much as we can manage before then!"

A line of tension shuddered through Lan Zhan’s legs, eyes flicking down then quickly away. 

This being cutsleeve kinda cultivation partners thing is really great, Wei Wuxian marvelled. Still getting so many reactions!

"Wei Ying... wants to?" Lan Wangji finally asked, hands balled up into fists at his side. If it had been a week ago, Wei Wuxian would have assumed he was furiously angry. It continued to delight him how many signs of repressed anger were actually repressed horniness. Wait, what was the question?

"How should I know if I want to or not?" he answered honestly. "I didn't even know I wanted to kiss a man, not until you ravished me! I've never tried putting a cock in my mouth before. Maybe I'll hate it and never do it again. Maybe it'll be fun! I think it seems worth giving a try? I'm curious, at least."

More shuddering. Wow, Lan Zhan really was too repressed if just talking about these things was breaking him so badly. 

Hopefully having his dick sucked makes him feel like he’s getting the most out of the repression break, or at the very least, speeds along the process of getting him used to orgasms so he won’t act so crazy the next time he meets a good looking cutsleeve.

…Although, bragging aside, there was a decent chance this would be mediocre. The man's dick was ridiculously big, and he was a little worried about choking, which probably would be neither pleasant nor sexy. 

"Mn." Lan Zhan sat back down.

But a mediocre blowjob is still a blowjob, right?…Unless I gag and throw up on his dick. That would probably be worse than no blowjob.

"Alright then!" Wei Wuxian said with cheerful false confidence. It didn't take much maneuvering to kneel so he was eye level with Lan Zhan's lap.

Yup, there was a bulge. Very large. Even through cloth. 

"Do you... want me to take your trousers off, or —"

Lan Wangji stood again, stalking away. Before Wei Wuxian could protest giving up that quickly, the man began stripping in swift, economical motions. It definitely wasn't intended to be sexy — sexy stripping didn’t involve neatly folding clothing and placing them on a side dresser while strictly avoiding looking in the direction of the person you were showing off too.

But holy shit, Lan Zhan… the way his skin seemed to glow in the soft lamplight…  wide shoulders tapering into a well muscled chest… A perfect waterfall of ink black hair…

FUCK his body was perfect. 

Wei Wuxian wanted — wanted to do a bunch of stuff to it, honestly. First on the list was getting it wet so he could be sure it was real flesh and not the painting it appeared to be.

Once again, he cursed the fact that it had taken him so long to come around to the idea of men in this way. So much time wasted swimming and training when he had been missing out on ogling literally half of all the people!

Lan Wangji removed his inner robes and pants with the same efficient motions, placing them immediately into a Qiankun bag, because of course Hunguang-Jun would never risk the chance of his used undergarments being left laying around in a room for any length of time.

Wei Wuxian shifted in his seat on the ground, newly uncomfortable. Thanks to his alterations, his pants had been too tight even before he had started getting hard. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fit of his belt or the scratch of his overlayer, which he had chosen less for comfort and more for the way the metallic embroidery caught the light. Mostly he had picked it for its lack of fabric; it very obviously was not intended to be worn against skin, but as ornamentation over something with actual sleeves. And weight. And neckline.

Hands pausing at his forehead, Lan Wangji glanced over, swallowed hard, then removed the ribbon and tucked it decisively out of sight.

In a few long strides, Lan Wangji was back sitting on the edge of the bed before Wei Wuxian, clad only in a single thin white under robe, which didn't do much to hide his extremely obvious erection. 

"Ah Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian sighed, inching forward. "You know, it really shouldn't have been attractive to me watching you fold clothing, but I think you might just be that good looking."

Did the fabric seem to ripple? It was harder to tell without touching it. He shuffled closer, gently placing a hand on each of Lan Zhan's knees. Wei Wuxian looked up. 

Although Lan Zhan’s expression was still, his hands were clenched on his thighs, and his eyes were dark and unwavering in their focus. If he had to guess then he would say that Lan Zhan looked...hungry.

He felt a thrill of delight shiver up his spine. "Lan Er-Gongzi," he said, smirking. "Would you do this lowly one the great honor of opening your legs for me?"

"Absurd," Lan Wangji said, but the flatness of his voice was strained, and he allowed Wei Wuxian to push his knees apart and slide between them. The movement let the robe fall open, and Wei Wuxian threw both sides completely out of the way with reckless abandon, tugging at the sleeves so it slipped off Lan Zhan’s shoulders entirely.

"Fuck, you're big," Wei Wuxian said admiringly. "I mean I knew but… wow. I have no idea how all that's going to fit inside me."

Lan Wangji's breath hitched, and his cock jumped, bowing low under its own weight before curving up at the end, angled as if reaching right for the mouth in front of it. A single drop of pre-come shone at the tip.

"Ah! This part of you is so straightforward, Lan Zhan! From now on lets have all our conversations like this, alright?"

He looked up cheekily, only for his mouth to go dry at the intent look in Lan Zhan's eyes, body a coiled spring.

Right, right, doing this to try and make Lan Zhan less desperate. He set his jaw, newly determined. 

Then, reconsidering, he loosened his jaw, fastidiously tucking any loose hairs behind his ears for good measure.

"Alright, let me know if you want me to stop by, uh, pushing me away I guess."

"Mm."

Wei Wuxian considered for a moment. It would probably be easier to start with his hands. He had practice with that, if from a different angle. It would be the better, safer approach.

But hey, the best way to learn to swim is to be thrown into deep water, right?

He leaned in, taking the length between his lips then slowly but implacably continuing forward, careful to keep his teeth away. The taste was just a little bitter, but not off-puttingly so.

Lan Wangji sucked in an audible breath, bordering on a gasp, the sound of which went straight to Wei Wuxian's own cock. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see hands move toward him then back sharply away.

He bobbed for a moment, moving his tongue along the tip and head, calling upon the texts he had so diligently studied as a youth. He was rewarded with several more hitching breaths.

Never one to rest on past merits, he shuffled his knees forward, providing a better angle to take more in.

There reached a point where he could feel it trip up against something that felt dangerous, but it was like he experienced the sensation at a slight remove, the reaction of his body quashed immediately and instinctively.

With some pride, he realized he apparently didn't have a gag reflex, which was incredibly convenient, all things considered. 

All that spicy food — what a payoff! Maybe also the garbage I ate as a kid — and probably also three months eating —

No, definitely the spicy food. He hummed in self-satisfaction.

The humming was apparently the tipping point on Lan Zhan's self control, and his hips jerked forward, pushing another inch in, which wasn't exactly comfortable, but wasn't exactly bad either. The roof of his mouth was apparently kindof sensitive. 

"Apologies," Lan Wangji said stiffly. "I cannot control — you must not —" His hands left their death grip on his thighs, landing on Wei Wuxian's shoulders and pushing him back.

The admission of loss of control sent a thrill down Wei Wuxian's spine nearly equal to the kick he got out of the half finished sentences.

He allowed himself to be backtracked a few inches, taking careful breaths in through his nose, which was an odd sort of reverse reed breathing. He stopped before he could be completely removed, gripping Lan Zhan's wrists and looking up with challenge in eyes.

"Wei Ying, enough." Lan Zhan's face was flushed, color only serving to highlight his good looks, as it had when he had teased him as a teen. Wei Wuxian almost pulled off to tell him that, but hummed indignantly instead, pushing against Lan Zhan's hands. Lan Zhan let out a grunt, almost a groan, letting go.

Wei Wuxian grabbed his wrists before they could move too far, guiding them to the back of his head. Lan Zhan obligingly sunk his fingers into Wei Wuxain's hair, pinky fingers massaging the base of his scalp, thumbs cradling the tender area behind his ears. Wei Wuxian purred in approval, returning his own hands to Lan Zhan's muscular thighs.

He used the leverage to pull himself forward once more, faster this time. Lan Zhan's fingers spasmed, but didn't push him one way or the other.

He closed his eyes as he worked past where he had stopped before, continuing on until his nose pressed up against coarse hair. His throat was so choked it made his eyes water, and his tongue was too pinned down to do anything fancy, but he was able to swallow, throat convulsing somewhat painfully around the intrusion. Lan Zhan’s thighs tensed to steel. He was fairly certain neither of them breathed for a few seconds too long.

He moved back, nearly all the way off, sucking on the head for a moment while he caught his breath, then pushed forward again in one quick motion. He could actually feel Lan Zhan’s blood pounding through his cock, and his own heartbeat hurried to match it, possibly inspired by the lack of air.

Back to the tip again, moving faster again.

Lan Wangji's breath sped up in time with the motion, fingers shaking and hips twitching minutely. Wei Wuxian grinned at the clear struggle to maintain control.

Once he felt he had the hang of things well enough to split his focus he glanced up. Lan Zhan's face looked wrecked. Pink flush spread across his features, eyes dark and red rimmed, lips parted, breathing a mess — like he had been bullied to his breaking point.

Hip thrusting against nothing, Wei Wuxian's whole body shuddered. Next time I need to kneel at an angle, so I can grind against Lan Zhan’s leg or something. Experimentally, he slowed down. The fingers on the back of his head gave the smallest nudge inward, and he obligingly followed along.

He slowed down further — when Lan Zhan's hips came out to meet him he rewarded the bold move with a particularly vigorous suck.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji said, voice halfway to a groan.

"Hm?" Wei Wuxian pulled nearly all the way back, so the head of Lan Zhan's cock just barely caught on his lower lip, threatening to slip out entirely. "Mmn?" he hummed again questioningly, expression completely innocent. He paused for a long moment, not moving one way or the other as he looked up.

Naturally, Lan Zhan didn’t answer with words, but with hands pushing him slowly back onto his cock. Wei Wuxian let his head be moved. "Ohh," he said mockingly, though it obviously came out more muffled.

"Shameless!" Lan Wangji said, reproachful, tugging at his ponytail to drag him to the tip.

Wei Wuxian's eyes rolled back at the pleasant shock that sent through him, groan forced out with nowhere to go. Lan Zhan's hips moved forward again, hands readjusting to hold his head firm.

"Mn," Wei Wuxian said approvingly as Lan Zhan began to move in and out of his mouth with growing confidence.

"Wei Ying."

"Mn!"

It was an interesting meditative exercise to keep his throat and jaw relaxed as Lan Zhan thrust into it with what was starting to border on reckless abandon. 

The front of Wei Wuxian’s pants grew increasingly strained the longer Lan Zhan continued to alternate between heavy breaths and murmurs of his name; he tried to reward each vocalization with sucking, swallowing, or a tongue movement, but honestly it was hard enough just to keep track of getting air. He was similarly stymied in his attempts to watch Lan Zhan’s expression; eyes starting to water, and head moving too fast to see clearly anyway.

He wobbled for balance as he dropped a hand down, palming through his trousers at his own aching, neglected dick.

Did not expect this to be so hot, he thought hazily. At some point I’ve got to stop being surprised by how fucking hot cutsleeve stuff is.

"Wei Ying!" Lan Wangji rasped, fingers curling and yanking painfully at Wei Wuxian's hair. Wei Wuxians cock dribbled precum into his pants. He might have also whimpered a bit; it was kind of hard to tell, mouth stretched as it was around Lan Zhan’s length and vision once more starting to swim from lack of air. He barely managed to work himself a few strokes before Lan Wangji let out a quiet but genuine moan, gripping Wei Ying's head with both hands and pressing him hard against his crotch.

His nose filled with a potent musky smell; he would probably have let out more muffled noises as Lan Zhan shuddered against him, but barely a moment later a thick, warm stream hit the back of his throat. It was impossible not to cough, and hr spluttered as the smell of musk doubled into taste.

Immediately, he was pushed back and off, only barely managing to assert control in time to seal his lips. A few more errant splatters hit his face and neck but he was too focused on what was already in his mouth to mind.

“Spit it out,” Lan Zhan said, voice hoarse. “Quickly — spit it out.”

Wei Wuxian focused for a moment, hand over his mouth. Then he turned up, grinning at Lan Zhan's discombobulated expression. Oh, he would need to draw that for sure. If only he could get Lan Zhan to pose with exactly that reddened, vacant face. Blank not from self-discipline or an internal world occupied with loftier matters than one's surroundings, but because all thought had been sucked clean out his dick.

He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and winked. “Swallowed it!” he said smugly. 

I knew I would be good at oral.

Lan Wangji reached a hand forward, thumb wiping at Wei Wuxians cheek; it came away gleaming. 

They both stared at it for a long moment. Wei Wuxian was eventually unable to resist leaning forward to pull the thumb into his mouth, sucking the wetness off and pulling back with a nip and grin.

Lan Zhan didn’t even call him shameless. He just laid backwards, practically toppling over, lower legs dangling ungracefully off the edge of the bed.

“Um,” Wei Wuxian said. He didn’t want to be pushy  but he still very much had a situation in his own pants that he was hoping Lan Zhan would help at least a little with.  He crawled up on the bed, flopping on his elbows beside Lan Zhan, who had the heels of his hands pressed to both eyes, body stiff as a board. 

“Did I break you?” Wei Wuxian asked, trying to sound sympathetic instead of obnoxiously smug.

“Mm.”

He snickered, but Lan Zhan still didn’t call him shameless or glare at him. He started getting a little concerned.

“Hey you’re not yelling at yourself in your brain because of how you lost control, are you?” he asked suspiciously.

“...”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whined. “Give me some appreciation, will you? I work hard to get you to do that! Don’t steal my credit.”

Lan Zhan slowly pulled his hands from his face, turning his head so their eyes met. “Why?” he rasped.

“Why do I work to get you to lose control?” 

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian hummed thoughtfully. “Well, when we were younger I thought I liked annoying you until you were pissed off because it was funny. But now that I know how hot it is, I’m forced to consider that I always did it because of how attractive I find you when you’re out of your mind. And because it’s funny.”

Thinking, Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose. “When it's because of me, anyway. I don’t think it would be as hot if you were angry at some random person, but I'm not actually sure. I'll have to test it out.”

He shrugged, squirming a bit and completely inadvertently grinding his dick into the mattress. “Aaanyway, the point is I thought you going wild and fucking my mouth was incredibly sexy, so you shouldn’t feel bad. And you can’t judge me because you definitely thought about doing it to shut me up at some point, even before I mentioned it!”

Lan Wangji stared at him blankly, pink and red still splashed in uneven patches across his face, but a quick glance down confirmed that his dick was once again starting to rise, so if he was angry, he was also horny about it. Man, they should have been doing this for years, how perfectly matched were they?

Wei Wuxian shivered a little. The fancy fabric scrap he was wearing hadnt prevent come and drool from dripping down his chest, and he was starting to get cold.

“Hey — did you notice that my body apparently doesn’t have a gag reflex!” he said brightly, nudging Lan Zhan with his elbow. “Pretty convenient, huh? I bet it’s all the spicy —”

It was impossible to get the next word out, as his face was suddenly crushed into the mattress, breath forced out of his body by the abruptness of the move and the heady weight on top of him. One of Lan Zhan’s palms pressed down hard at the base of his skull.

The bruising force was all the more obvious for how it contrasted with Lan Zhan’s other hand, which carefully, reverently even, pushed up the back of his ‘robe’ and smoothed it out of the way, tucking part of it into the top of his belt for good measure

Wei Wuxian couldn’t feel air on his lower  back, so his pants were still held tight by his waist sash. Good, good; he had fucking sewn them in through the overlayer while Lan Zhan had gone out, which meant he had had to deal with them digging high up his butt for well over an hour.

But the way Lan Zhan ran an appreciative hand along where fabric had gotten sucked in by his asscheeks definitely made the discomfort worth it. He let out a shuddering breath as Lan Zhan stroked again, harder, fingers trailing the seam and pushing the fabric in further.

“Ah,” he said, gasping as he just managed to turn his head to the side. “What are you doing back there? Are you trying to keep my inner most places spread open? That’s a bit scandalous for an hon—or—oh—ha—”

Lan Zhan’s hand ran forcefully down his  spine then moved even lower. Either inspired by his rambling or already running along the same line of thought, Lan Zhan stopped messing around with his asscrack and really worked his thumbs in, spreading it apart. Then something hot and firm settled into place.

“Isn’t thi-is a little selfish?” Wei Wuxian said around a whine as Lan Zhan gripped his ass, half thrusting into the space between his cheeks, half moving Wei Wuxian back and forth around his cock. “Er-Gege already used my mouth as an object to pleasure himself with, now he brutally usES the darkest recesses of my body, with no — oh —  consideration for poor Wei Ying!”

Lan Wangji grunted, lifting Wei Wuxian’s hips off the bed; he scrambled to get his hands under him as he was raised to his knees. The second Wei Wuxian achieved a shaky stability, Lan Wangji reached underneath, palming his embarrassingly eager cock through very damp cloth.

Wei Wuxian moaned, almost dizzy with the urge to come — it felt like he had been on edge for an eternity.

“Hm,” Lan Wangji grunted, squeezing him once before shoving his body back down. 

Wei Wuxian laid there frozen in shock for a moment, dick throbbing where it was once again ignored and crushed against the bed. Lan Zhan used the time to move both their bodies around to suit his apparent whims.

Large hands wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s thighs and shoved them apart. Weight shifted around on top of him — Lan Zhan’s knees stayed outside his own, but his ankles came in, locking spread legs in place. Lan Zhan’s bare chest went forward and down, pressing them both even harder to the bed. The change in angle meant that, in addition to being able to mouth at Wei Wuxians neck, after briefly pulling his dick free of Wei Wuxians cleft, Lan Zhan  was able to shove in from the opposite direction — each thrust now pushing back towards his balls. 

Wei Wuxian groaned as lan zhan’s dick repeatedly rubbed him through bunched up, increasingly wet fabric. Not as much depth to thrusts this way, but there was no less force, which just meant he ground more persistently at a narrower range of skin - namely his hole, pushing hard enough to catch at the rim even through pants.

And I can’t even grind against the bed, Wei Wuxian bemoaned internally. He just had to rely on the force of Lan Zhan’s thrusts — well, humping really, I'm being humped — he had to rely on that to give him varying degrees of pressure. Second hand humping.

Holy shit, he was close to coming.

“I — uhn — Lan — you —" Wei Wuxian stuttered, as the stimulation across more or less his entire body briefly overwhelmed him. He rallied, hands scrambling against the sheets in an attempt to get enough leverage to push up. “Lan Zhan just because I’m hard doesn’t mean it's alright to —”

Lan Wangji’s hands wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s wrists, pinning them against the bed as certainly as if iron shackles had been involved. 

The sound that came out of Wei Wuxian might have been a little higher pitched and breathy than he would generally admit to being capable of.

“Nhh —  Is this what it would have been like if we really had been together during the war?” he asked, muscles falling slack as it became obvious he was thoroughly trapped with no chance of escape. “Would Lan er-Gege simply have crushed me to the ground and taken his pleasure with no concern for mine, even if I begged and whimpered?”

Lan Wangji thrust harder, hips slamming down against his tailbone repeatedly. Teeth scraped neck.

“So cruel,” he whined. “Making me sit through tactics meetings with the taste of your come in my mouth aND the feel of it dripping down my thighs, still hard and aching because my cultivation partner — ah, lan zhan, lower, bite lower, remember — my cultivation partner — yeah shoulder is good too, ah — sent me on the battlefield with my cock still aching because after fucking my mouth in a tent cruel er-Gege d-didn’t even give me the chance to rub myself off against his leg —"

For a second he thought Lan Zhan was coming againin, what with the vigor of his thrusts mixed with the sharp increase in moisture. Then he realized that it wasn’t that Lan Zhan was leaking more precome; the fabric was simply starting to come apart in that area.

He moaned wantonly, hopefully covering up any tearing noises that Lan Zhan might feel honor-bound to respond to. “Gods, your dick is big,” he babbled. “So fucking big against me, in my throat, I can’t believe how good —"

There was a loud ripping sound. Wei Wuxian felt skin abruptly displace cotton more or less directly over his asshole. 

They both froze.

“Did you just…” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Zhan was absolutely silent and motionless— if it hadn’t been for the fact that the man's literal whole body was pressing him into the mattress, heart pounding through sweat slicked skin and dick hot against his entrance, Wei Wuxian might have assumed he left.

“Ah — ha — ahhahaha —” Wei Wuxian started laughing helplessly. “You — ahha — you actually did it! AHAHA, you actually ripped through my pants! Heh — Lan Zhan — you actually drilled a hole in my pants with your cock!”

Lan Wangji pressed his forehead to the space between Wei Wuxian’s neck and shoulder as another round of uncontrolled laughter shook their bodies and the bed. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji eventually said, once Wei Wuxian’s giggling subsided. “What do I do?” His voice was tight.

Wei Wuxian huffed, equal parts exasperated and fond. He clenched his ass, as Lan Zhan still had him too pinned to do anything more emphatic. “Keep going,” he said, throat suddenly raw — fuck he needed to come.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan kissed the bruise he had been sucking, then continued similarly along the top of his shoulder. The move was shockingly free of teeth; “tender” was the best word he had to describe the press of Lan Zhan’s lips as they slowly worked their way up the line of his neck to behind his ear; Wei Wuxian shuddered.

Lan Wangji finally pulled away, sweaty chest unsticking from his back with an audible and not entirely pleasant sound, dick sliding free of the tattered mess it had made.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have much time to complain, as Lan Zhan’s hands were already grasping his pants and tearing them in half.

Not what I meant! He thought in alarm. I meant keep going with your dick, not with destroying my clothing!

Lan Zhan froze again, perhaps sensing his mistake. Wei Wuxian took a breath, forcing himself to relax. I’m still covered in front, he thought with deliberate calm. I’m laying on my front and I’m still covered up there anyway. The belt is secure. It’s fine.

“Wei Ying?”

“Such a brute,” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely. Okay a laughing fit after having my throat fucked might have been too much. “Has my body rendered you so devoid of courtesy? Who could have known how animalistic and uncouth the honored Second Lan Jade would be in bed?”

Lan Zhan exhaled, thumbs once again rubbing between his cheeks, calloused thumbs dragging against downy hairs and delicate skin. “Jade,” he said back.

Wei Wuxian was confused for a moment before realizing that he wasn’t just repeating back part of his title, but remarking on the smoothness and paleness of Wei Wuxian’s skin. Specifically his butt.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Ah, so this is what inspires you to poetry, eh Lan er-Gongzi? I suppose it would take something truly depraved to get you to compose music, huh?”

“No.”

“Eh?”

Lan Zhan pressed at a sore spot on his ass, drawing out a reflexive hiss.

 “Wei Ying is bruised,” he said, tone unreadable. 

Wei Wuxian twisted around, going up on an elbow, but, not shockingly, Lan Zhan's expression was also unreadable.

“What did you expect?” Wei Wuxian asked. “You’ve spent the last however many days treating my ass like dough that you’re particularly angry at.”

“...Did not realize the extent of damage.”

Wei Wuxian snorted, laying back down. “If it was an issue, believe me, I would have mentioned something.”

Lan Wangji mulled that over for a few long moments, then seemed to accept it, once again digging hands in and spreading him open. Wei Wuxian tucked his face against the bed to hide his grin, elation quickly turning into alarm when Lan Zhan immediately pushed his dick against his hole.

“Uhh. Aren’t you forgetting some things?” he said, voice too high. “Oil is literally a few steps away.”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan said non-committedly. He continued forward, once again working himself between Wei Wuxian’s cleft, even pressing the cheeks together to give himself a tighter fit to pleasure himself. 

“Wha — are you still planning on coming like this?” Wei Wuxian said, indignant.

“Mn.” Lan Wangj manhandled his hips up for a better angle, meaning that Wei Wuxia’s dick, which was still the hardest it could get, was no longer getting any stimulation from the bed.

“Lan Zhaaan,” he protested, whole body rocking, Lan Zhan's pre-come not quite enough to ease the friction burn. 

Lan Wangji ignored him, seeming perfectly content to use his body as it was.

Wei Wuxian folded his arms and buried his face in them, both to protect his nose  from being ground into the sheets, and to hide his flaming face from the indignity of his current position. “You’re supposed to guh — go inside,” he complained.

The length rubbing against his hole seemed to increase in width. 

“Wei Wuxian wants that,” Lan Zhan said, strained blankness in his voice rendering the question into more of a statement.

“Yes! What, do — ah — do you want me to beg?”

Lan Zhan’s cock throbbed, ever harder against him, slick skin catching at his rim.

“Oh you do,” he sighed into his arms. “Of course you do, I should have known by now how m — uh — much Lan Er-Gege loves my mouth.”

Wetter. Harder.

“Please,” he whined, raw voice cracking naturally. “I need you to fill me — I did  — nhh — didn’t even know tha-at was something that men could do until recently, and as s-soon as I knew I thought of Er-Gege — easy, Lan Zhan, you just were saying how bruised I was — easy, too tight — where was I? Oh yeah, I never knew — hngh — when you flew away to scout I — oh, come on Lan Zhan you know you want to!”

“When I flew away to scout,” Lan Wangji repeated, not slowing down. Wei Wuxian tried to squirm and redirect things in an even more favorable direction, but his ass was locked around a dick and between hands, and really, there was no dignified way to struggle against that sort of hold.

“Ah — “ The rocking was starting to make Wei Wuxian lightheaded. “What? When you — oh yeah, I  touched mmhh — my — myself there, put my fingers — fuck — worked them inside of my hole a-and thought of you — I want it, I want your —”

Lan Wangji exhaled sharply as heat flooded Wei Wuxian’s cleft. Considering his ass was currently the highest point of his body, come trickled down his balls and lower back in equal measure. Quickly, Lan Zhan readjusted, angling inward, pressing his cockhead hard enough at Wei Wuxian’s entrance to burn, so the last spurts were forced in, if not very far.

Wei Wuxian bit his arm, cock jumping, on the very cusp of coming against nothing. 

“You couldn't have stood up and gotten a fucking jar?” he rasped weakly, once his peak, again, slipped by him, ruined throat making his voice sound even more debauched than he felt — which was quite the accomplishment.

Lan Zhan’s dick dragged slightly backwards from his opening, as if — as if just to keep me spread — a single finger drew down his cleft — oh fuck Lan Zhan was using his dick to keep his cheeks spread so his hole was on display, which had to be swollen from all the rubbing — and now Lan Zhan was pressing a finger in, he was using his own come to slick his finger and push it in — he’s pushing in his come — Lan Zhan’s dick was getting hard again, how does he get so hard so fast so often, it’s ridiculous —  his growing cock was spreading his cheeks open  further —  Lan Zhan’s finger is in my ass — it was so large, and the angle — relax —the finger slid in further, pushing his come — finger right near the spot — his finger pulled out, circled the rim, tugging — too good — pulling open — sensitive — fingers ran down his cleft again, gathered more spend — Lan Zhan shoved two fingers in —

Wei Wuxians knees started shaking, sliding down sweat slicked sheets. Rather than hold him up, Lan Zhan sunk down with him, free hand tugging one asscheek to the side, massaging him like he was a skittish horse. The renewed feel of bedding against his dick was ungodly, and he bucked into it, then back, onto Lan Zhan’s fingers, which were still pressing inside, sending a line of lightning through the back of his cock — his fingers were moving in and out — too fast, barely spent any time with one and two burned because every time he remembered how to relax it felt so good that he clenched involuntarily — and even without aiming they were wide enough and he was tight enough that they almost had to brush against — Lan Zhan twisted his fingers, so close to — if I just tilt my  —

Wei Wuxian was uncertain how much if any of that he said aloud, before making a garbled noise and coming hard enough that high pitched ringing overtook his hearing and everything went white.

The ringing and brightness faded slowly, Lan Zhan’s fingers doing their best to move in and out as his hole convulsed around them, prolonging the orgasm to where his toes literally curled. 

The high pitched noise finally dissipated, and Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, shakily burying his face into the bed when he realized his arms were wet with drool.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, when his tongue cooperated, Lan Zhan’s fingers still rocking shallowly, Wei Wuxian twitching around them and against the bed. “I’ve wasted my life. I’ve pissed away my days. Why the fuck haven’t we done this before.”

“Wei Ying, please,” Lan Wangji said, fingers pulling free.

“Ngh,” Wei Wuxian said hazily, hole clenching. “What? Please?”

“Please,” Lan Wangji said more intently, hands spread wide across Wei Wuxian's ass, thumbs holding the cleft open again, fingers tight on the swell of his cheeks. Lan Zhan’s dick pressed against his entrance, head pushing in the barest amount.

“Too big, er-gege,” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely as his rim stretched. He could feel himself flexing against — around — Lan Zhan, and had to blink back white spots again.

Still, it was the easiest thing in the world to relax right now, burn easing to warmth. 

“Lan Zhan is so big. Are you going to finally fuck me, Lan Zhan? For real?”

“Wei Ying.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was the gravel in Lan Zhan’s voice or the twitch of Lan Zhan’s dick against the inside of his rim, but either way, lightning was shooting up his spine.

“Lan Zhan,” he managed to get out, tongue heavy.

Once again, Weu Wuxian felt his hips  be dragged back up, but his body was limp this time,  knees supporting almost none of the weight; Lan Zhan’s cock pushed in further and an animalistic whine escaped Wei Wuxians permission. Hands slid up and under tattered pants — long middle fingers nearly brushing the edge of Wei Wuxian’s spent cock.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes snapped open from their half lidded lull. 

He glanced down — up — at himself, past his chest to —

Fuck.

At some point, he didn’t even know when, his pants had torn further, split completely up the center and dangling in shreds around; his robe was askew, and of course his belt had also slid up, too far up his waist; the scar was now —

Panic flooded his body, dousing the euphoria, time slowing as Lan Zhan readjusted his grip, holding him securely and angling him better for dick impalement — which he couldn’t even enjoy because fingers were brushing his lower stomach — fuck what if Lan Zhan decided to flip him over —

Lan Zhan grunted as the head pushed the rest of the way in, and — FUCK — Wei Wuxian's fingers clawed the sheets in time with Lan Zhan's against skin —

Maybe it would be alright — though, again, FUCK, his dick was a LOT fucking bigger than two fingers, they should maybe not have gone from two fingers to massive cock, and now he was significantly less relaxed, so it fucking hurt. The pain was doing something weird at the moment; instead of giving him clarity, he felt  fuzzy, almost drunk, but he couldn't — he had to focus — the scar — 

Lan Zhan bent over, sliding in another agonizing inch, leaning down to kiss his back. Fear overwhelmed Wei Wuxian at the move, if Lan Zhan looked the smallest amount around his side, his front, moved his head even a little, changed their positions even once —

With a burst of resentment, he muscled his hips out of Lan Zhan’s grip, slamming them to the bed. Lan Zhan slid out with a wet pop.

“What is wrong?” Lan Wangji immediately asked. 

“Nothing!” Wei Wuxian lied. “Honest!”

“Wei Ying, tell me what I did wrong; I will fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Wei Wuxian said miserably, doubly muffling his face with his hands and the bed. Embarrassment and cold flooded through him. “It’s fine — you can — I — I just — I can s-still—”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, actual audible distress breaking into his voice, which was incredibly disturbing. A shaking hand touched Wei Wuxians shoulder — fuck Lan Zhan’s hand was shaking — he had to — oh shit. Oh no.

Humiliatingly, he realized that it wasn’t Lan Zhan’s hand shaking, but Wei Wuxian’s own whole body, which for some unknown fucking reason had suddenly decided to shiver as if battling a blizzard. He took a few deep breaths, trying to get a grip, but they came too fast, and if anything he shook harder.

“Wei Ying, what do I do?” Lan Wangji said urgently. “What do you need?” 

How should I know?! Wei Wuxian tried to snap, but his throat had gotten tight, burning more than it had during its earlier trials.

Lan Wangji pressed both palms to his back, and fire flooded in.

It took him several seconds too long to realize that Lan Zhan was passing him spiritual energy; he jerked, shouldering over hot hands away.

“Wei Ying, please,” Lan Wangji whispered.

“I’m fine,” Wei Wuxian rasped, trying and probably failing to keep the pain out of his voice as spiritual energy sluggishly flowed down his meridians, boiling and hissing where it met resentment. “I just need a minute. Just — just give me five minutes. Ten.”

“Whatever Wei Ying needs.”

“Minutes alone,” he said, throat harsh. “Please — I need — I need you to get lost. For fifteen minutes. Maybe an incense stick.”

“...”

Wei Wuxian didn’t look up as Lan Zhan shifted off the bed, made rustling sounds that were presumably clothing layers, and walked to the door, hesitating at the threshold.

“I’m fine,” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely, eyes stinging. “One incense stick.”

The door quietly opened and shut.

Wei Wuxian glanced up to ensure he was alone before allotting himself one full minute to curl into a ball and feel wretched. 

Soon enough, the spiritual energy circulated to a point where it met flayed meridians, leaking out shortly before it reached where his core used to be.

Well that does a lot to confirm my theories on what would happen if a spiritual cultivator tried to work with yin energy on the same level as me, he thought through the pain of resentment clashing against qi. Good to know. And I didn't even have a weird reverse qi deviation or anything!

Once most of that was out of his system, he forced himself to his feet, body still shaking at random intervals. Annoyed, he made his way to the wooden bathtub in the corner of the room. The water was dirty and lukewarm from earlier, and he only had leftover heating talismans, not cleansing. Whatever. Warm was more important than clean right anyway, and he slapped three on the tub impatiently. Fuck it was cold in here.

He tore off his absolutely ruined pants with a disgusted noise, using some of the scraps to wipe at the mess between his legs. Gods above, there was a ridiculous amount of come, who the fuck came so much. After a minute, steam started to rise and he yanked off the useless sweat and spend stained overlayer, casting it aside and stepping into the scalding water. Another half a minute and he scrabbled at the outside the tub, pulling the talismans off before he started actually boiling. 

He dunked his head, feeling a little more like himself once fully submerged in hot water.

I guess it's like when I pushed myself too hard during the campaign and collapsed the second I got back to my tent? He thought, skin still prickling with uncharacteristic shame. Only with sex? Does that make sense? I wasn’t even doing most of the work! Is this a non-cultivator thing? A resentful energy side effect? Fuck, this is so stupid. All that ridiculous planning for nothing.

He wiped at his thighs, which felt slick even in water. Half-heartedly, he stuck a finger in his ass, trying to get the come out.

His dick gave a weak twitch, which he didn’t dignify with a response.

Freezing air greeted him when he forced himself out of the tub, and the shivering resumed full force — he just couldn’t marshall up the bare minimum amount of focus it would take a junior disciple to master such a thing. Hastily, he wiped himself with a still damp towel, throwing it aside when it became completely useless. The blanket from the bed they had been… engaged in had been shoved to the ground, and he wrapped it around himself, half huddling, half trying to get more water off.

Powering through the bitter chill, he stayed in motion, body fighting him each step.

There was still a minute and change before Lan Zhan was supposed to be back by the time he had dressed, borrowing pants and undershirt from Lan Zhan and adding a high necked inner robe he had acquired in town earlier that day. He studied the bed, throwing the wet blanket on it once he realized it was a lost cause anyway.

Seriously, how the fuck had Lan Zhan come that much? Okay, some of that might be mine, depending on when my pants ripped, but still!

Fortunately, they had been given a room with two beds, and he had buried himself under clean linens by the time a hesitant knock came at the door.

“The wards are keyed to you, Lan Zhan,” he called, irritated at having to speak, not taking the blanket off his head. Exhaustion fought with embarrassment and cold for top place in unpleasant things that were happening to his body.

The door opened and shut. 

Lan Wangji approached, setting something down on the table by the bed, moving so quietly that Wei Wuxian might not have heard, were his senses not going haywire.

“Sorry, Lan Zhan,” he said, voice raw. “I think I’m—”

“Wei Ying should not apologize,” Lan Wangji interrupted, voice low.

Wei Wuxian finally rolled over, pulling the blankets back to make eye contact. “Fine,” he said curtly. “Thanks for the crazy good orgasm.”

“Wei Ying should not thank me.” Lan Wangji’s hands were fisted at his side.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said, sarcastically patient, talking slow to compensate for the occasional shiver. “What you’re supposed to say is ‘thanks for the amazing orgasms, Wei Ying’ and then I would say ‘my pleasure, seriously’ and then you would say something about how great at blow jobs I am, and I would repeat that whole thing from earlier, and then we would agree to stop apologizing and thanking each other for weird crazy shit that happens during weird crazy sex.’

Lan Wangji stared at him.

“Or we could just skip that,” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely, closing his eyes and curling up against the shivering. “And you can put out the lanterns and go to sleep, since you’ve been slowly pushing me t-towards this stupid Lan sleep schedule.”

Lan Wangji lingered, studying him for too long before stepping away.

A smell reached him and he forced his eyes back open, gaze falling on what Lan Zhan had brought. “Fuck, is that tea?”

“...Mn.”

Suddenly desperate for something to soothe his throat, Wei Wuxian sat up and poured a cup with trembling hands. The blanket stayed wrapped around his shoulders. He drank too fast, not tasting, spilling on himself and the bed. 

“The bathwater's hot,” Wei Wuxian said, not looking over as he emptied the pot. “If you want to wipe off.”

“Mn.”

Eventually the tea was gone and he collapsed back down. Despite his best efforts to give into exhaustion, every muscle in his body remained taut. Plus the intermittent but violent shivering was starting to make him nauseous, so that was fun.

The room grew dark, and Lan Wangji slowly moved to the soiled bed.

“That bed’s disgusting, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said tiredly. “Just get in this one with me.”

There were several noticeable moments of  hesitation before he complied, sliding quietly into the sheets beside him. Wei Wuxian immediately realized the reason for the uncertainty - this was way more intimate than laying side by side in separate bedrolls. Possibly more intimate than sex, where at least they were busy.

He was suddenly hyperconscious of the location of his arms in relation to Lan Zhan — all his limbs really, but he had no idea what he usually did with his arms when he slept. He wrapped them around himself, trying once again to control his shaking, only somewhat succeeding. After a few seconds of hyperawareness, he opted to roll onto his back and start talking, allowing his natural gestures to cover up any awkwardness.

“I basically finished the compass earlier — just need to do a little tuning. It picked up something right away — well r-right away after i worked up an exclusion for myself — anyway, there's something northeast of here — powerful but I’m not sure how far, I might have overdone it extending range — i'll probably scale back on the next version, not very useful if you’re hunting gui and it picks up a mo two sects o-over —”

Lan Wangji reached out, grabbing his flailing wrists. Wei Wuxian froze, and was released immediately.

“I am sorry,” Lan Wangji said stiffly. “Wei Ying said he was tired. And his voice sounds. Pained. I reacted impulsively. Again.” He sat up. “I will find another room.”

Wei Wuxian hand shot out to clutch his robes. Lan Wangji stilled.

“...Wei Ying, I do not know what I am supposed to do.” Lan Wangi said after an extended moment of silence between them. 

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said, sighing heavily. “Yeah, that makes sense. Man, and I made fun of you for being bad at talking! I don’t think I could be more confusing if I tried!”

The joke fell flat. Lan Zhan didn't move.

“...How about you try laying down next to me?” Wei Wuxian said, unable to think of a clever segway, “For warmth. I’m cold. I know I say a lot of nonsense, but you can believe me when I tell you that, right?” He pressed the back of his hand to Lan Wangji’s neck as proof.

“Wei Ying is often cold,” Lan Wangji said quietly, but he laid back down.

“And Lan Zhan is often warm,” Wei Wuxian said, ignoring any undercurrents about cultivation methods. “He can spare some heat, can't he?” He scooched closer, burying his face in Lan Zhan’s shoulder, which was indeed radiating heat.

Slowly, Lan Zhan turned toward him, carefully putting an arm around his back and drawing him in, so their fronts were pressed together. No boners for once, though knowing Lan Zhan it was a matter of time.

“Mph,” Wei Wuxian said into the side of Lan Zhan’s neck. “Tighter.”

Lan Zhan obeyed, one arm coming underneath to drag him nearer still, the other pulling the blanket close before encircling him completely. Wei Wuxian’s shivering finally stopped as he burrowed in, hands clutching at the front of Lan Zhan’s chest, half on top of him, legs intertwining.

“Mmkay,” he mumbled, as muscles unclenched into utter relief. “New plan. Next time I randomly start shivering after an orgasm, do this instead of other stuff.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan held him tighter, pressing his face into Wei Wuxian’s hair. 

“Also tea. Do the tea again.”

“Mn.”

“Alright now I really want to sleep, so no more talking.”

“Mn.”

“Don’t even reply! I can’t get in a conversation right now.”

“...”

“Great. Good job. Good night, Lan Zhan.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Good night, wei ying.” 

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Eleven

Between waiting for laundry to dry, compiling notes, and… various other activities, it took until late morning the next day to break camp.

Traversing the increasingly steep countryside turned out to be significantly more easygoing than walking the gentle valleys and roads of the days before. It was more easygoing than literally any time he had spent with Lan Zhan ever — maybe easier than anytime Wei Wuxian had spent with anyone, at least since before the war.

It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw Lan Zhan almost smile at some of his ramblings. Not with teeth. Or even lips. And his skin was too good to betray him with obvious lines around the eyes, but still something in the way the muscles of his jaw shifted —

In any case having sex (does humping each other at various angles through clothing count as sex? Kissing definitely didn't really feel like a comprehensive enough word. Whatever, cutsleeve orgasms) had definitely mellowed Lan Zhan out a bunch.

…Mellow might not be the word.

It was more like the intensity Lan Zhan had previously reserved for judging and criticizing Wei Wuxian’s life choices was now being redirected towards rubbing body parts against each other and doing random nice things.

Which, while a little weird, was definitely an improvement! No pheasant’s eggs the next morning, but there was a whole chunk of honeycomb.  Not as much time writing that next day, but after a good 45 minutes of extremely one sided musings about range extensions, Lan Zhan spoke up just to offer a number that Wei Wuxian had calculated outloud earlier and immediately forgotten. 

Up until that point he had sort of been assuming that Lan Zhan was passively ignoring him the way Jiang Cheng did when he was in a patient mood, or allowing the words to flow in and out the way A-Li did when he got too esoteric. 

But no, subtle tests revealed that Lan Zhan had apparently been listening to every single word. And remembering it. Was his memory always like this?!

Fucking hell, Lan Zhan probably rememberes significantly more of what I've said over the years than I do. Which… explains a lot. Fuck.

If he was being honest, the shift was starting to unnerve him. Just a little.

But Lan Zhan insisted he wanted to wash all those pants, so maybe it was a sex thing? Which would be fine! If it wasn't, well… no it was probably fine.  

Lan Zhan was a bit of a dick in the past, he thought, not entirely sure why he felt the need to rationalize it. And he’s probably going to end up having more orgasms than me in the long run, if I’m being honest about relative stamina, so it probably mostly balances out. And I should definitely count the matter of the trial separately, that’s its own debt. Besides we’re friends, possibly cultivation partners, if only in the technical sense, and little stuff like this isn't really worth adding up specifically. 

The thing was... he was starting to wonder if maybe the reason Lans had a million insanely specific rules was because they had zero internal sense of perspective.

Hm. Considering baby Lan Zhan had responded to teenage drunkenness with the same affront others did warcrimes, that could be it, or it could be the lack of inner moderation was just a Lan Zhan thing… which would also explain a lot. 

Fuck.

Wei Wuxian had, naturally, started testing the limits. 

“Hey Lan Zhan, the sun is in my eyes, do you mind walking a little to the left of me? Just uphill there?”

“Mn.”

//

“Oh, had an idea! I need to write something down real quick — can I lean this parchment against your back?”

“Mn.” 

//

“Ooh that tree over there looks a lot like the one from the phoenix mountain hunt, doesn’t it? Look how that branch sticks out!”

“...Mn.”

“Can I borrow your ribbon? I want to try something.”

“Mn.”

//

Okay that last one might have been less one sided, but he strongly suspected that as horny as breaking ribbon specific rules made Lan Zhan (hilarious!), the man was also at least somewhat conflicted about The Demon of Yumeng's blasphemous uses for the thing. But he still let him do pretty much whatever he wanted, which was equal parts hot, delightful, and worrisome. 

Perhaps more tellingly, Lan Zhan had yet to voice a single complaint or concern about their journey. Even as it became increasingly obvious that skirting increasingly large mountainsides in the vague direction of the imperial center meant they were wandering increasingly away from civilization. 

Still, they had happened to flush out a cave abbertation that almost certainly would have gotten strong enough to start seeking human souls within the decade, so it wasn’t a complete waste. Maybe Lan Zhan was also having a hard time imagining getting back to normal towns and roads, where it would no longer be appropriate to stop what they were doing to make out on the ground for an hour or two.

Huh. something to look forward to after the trial, he supposed. 

If he lived. If doubts over their relationship persisted. If Lan Zhan was allowed within a li of him after his sect got their jaws around him. If Lan Zhan wanted to after his sect got their jaws back on him. 

Another morning dawned overly sticky, and they detoured even further to find somewhere to wash.

Yeah, we’re going to need to fly if we want to get anywhere before the trial. The thought was significantly less daunting than other times necessity had forced him into such situations during the war. If there was one thing Lan Wangji could do, it was hold him tight.

“Damn,” Wei Wuxian said, admiring his reflection in the lake’s mirrored surface. “You’ve really been marking me up.”

“Mn.” 

It might have been projecting, but he could swear there was a hint of self-satisfaction on that placid face.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “What the hell will it look like if we arrive together at Carp Tower with my neck in this state? Setting aside the fact that we want to blindside the Jin, if your sect gets a whiff of this, a dozen Lan elders will descend from the clouds to knock you unconscious and drag you away before you start talking.”

“Could handle a dozen.” Lan Wangji said, deadpan. 

Wei Wuxian cackled. “Don’t joke, I’m being serious — anyway that’s the best case, worst case everyone will assume some victim of mine tried to fight back.”

Lan Wangji's lips turned down.

“No more bruises above the collar, all right,” Wei Wuxian scolded. “I’m going to need to somehow buy some high necked inner robes as it is.”

Lan Wangji’s frown didn’t diminish.

This is the thing he digs his heels in on? Wei Wuxian thought with amusement. I’m glad he’s not suddenly a complete pushover, but still!

“Relax, I’ve still got low cut undershirts — you’ll be able to satisfy your animalistic urges, just — and I can’t believe I have to say this to you — have some self control.”

The darkened expression didn’t break as Lan Zhan studied him. “Wei Ying cannot heal?” he finally asked.

Shit.

Wei Wuxian heartrate skyrocketed and stomach sank, but he managed to outwardly shake it off. “I shouldn’t have to,” he said, tossing his hair and looking away. “It’s a waste of spiritual energy. Just keep your teeth to yourself if you can’t mind any fucking limits.”

“...Wei Ying's resentful cultivation interferes with his spiritual abilities.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart still thundered too fast, but he felt a good deal of the pressure in his chest ease. It had occurred to him somewhat belatedly that prolonged physical contact might be enough to sense past the malaise of resentment that thronged his butchered meridians, but thankfully Lan Zhan still seemed to blindly believe there was something golden under there.

“None of your business,” he said coolly, stalking away from the pond. Lan Zhan, of course, followed.

“Wei Ying.”

“I’m done talking about this.” 

“Your path is damaging your body.”

“I didn’t see you complaining about my body this morning.”

“Wei Ying.”

“That’s me!”

“You —”

“I’m fine!” Wei Wuxian cried, spinning around. “Fine! So maybe my healing isn’t as speedy as Lan Zhan’s or Jiang Cheng’s — I’m far from fragile. Hunguang-Jun fought beside me in the war — did he not see me take sword wounds? Did I not recover from those with greater speed than any other man! It’s just some bruising!”

Lan Wangji fell quiet. 

They walked several minutes before the silence between them broke, and to his surprise, it was Lan Zhan who broke it. “Wen Qing knows.”

Icy panic ran down his spine, until he remembered the last time Lan Zhan, Wen Qing, and himself had been in a room together discussing healing.

Wei Wuxian spun around again, heat crawling up the back of his neck. “What?” he asked, not having to fake how flabbergasted he sounded. “Are you saying that’s why she lectured us so thoroughly?”

Lan Wangji wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that’s why she pressed so hard on how to avoid anal injuries? Is that what you mean?” he needled, amused.

Pink was starting to fill in the top of Lan Zhan’s ears.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Now, why are you thinking about that?” he asked innocently. “Did you spend that lecture wondering why you would ever need to know such a thing, when a cultivator of your great strength would never need to worry about minor injuries like that, hmm?” He stalked forward.

Lan Wangji’s ears were now fully red. 

Wei Wuxian dropped his voice as he closed the remaining distance, moving fully into Lan Zhan’s space. “You know, come to think of it, I can’t help but remember now that Lan er-Gongzi’s legs were crossed for much of that lecture. Was the honored Hunguang-Jun perhaps… considering the practicalities of how such a lesson might apply to his circumstances, and how they might relate to the person sitting next to him, who was also a capable cultivator? My, Lan-er-gege, isn’t that a little presumptuous?”

“This valley does not obviously connect with imperial roads.” Lan Zhan said, right hand clenched extremely tight on his sword. “Will scout for towns.” 

“Sure. That’s a good idea,” Wei Wuxian said lightly, not protesting as Lan Zhan mounted his blade and fled.

Okay, so he hasn’t suddenly become a pushover on my cultivation, he thought ruefully, watching him fly away. I guess that makes sense since it's "for my own good” or whatever. But he’s definitely a lot more easily distracted.

He waited until white robes were a speck in the sky before dropping to the ground and pulling his pants down to his ankles.

It can’t be that big a hole, right?! Sure, I’ve taken some decent sized dumps, but those are a lot softer, aren’t they? 

Despite impressive bending and undignified rolling, he was eventually forced to conclude that he was not able to get a proper look at his own asshole, even when he wrestled his pants fully off over his boots, laid on his back, and pulled his knees to his shoulders.

Blindly, he reached past his balls and poked around. There were…hm… sure a lot of nerves back there, but yeah, that was about as wide an opening as he expected, which was to say not at all. 

Steeling himself, he pushed a finger in.

Not great. 

Though, that could be the angle? And, yeah, all that stretching stuff Wen Qing mentioned. He got to his feet, then after a moment’s consideration, brought the finger to his nose, sniffing it. 

Also not great. 

But Lan Zhan was the one who wanted to stick his dick in there, so that was his problem! He checked the sky again, then decided to risk it, casting his clothes aside as he scrambled through his bags, until he laid hands on the still unopened jar of oil.

Kneeling, he set it beside a tree, feeling it might be a good idea to have something to lean on. His pulse started to pick up as a breeze passed over his exposed skin. Maybe I should have set up a tent. Eh, too late now.

With one last glance upward, he committed, breaking the wax seal and dipping in.

Finger now slippery, he reached behind, and rubbed more patiently at the wrinkled skin around his hole. Kind of interesting? Sensitive. Still way too small an opening, for sure. He closed his eyes, half meditating.

That let him relax enough for a pointer finger to comfortably push in to the first knuckle. Weird sensation, a bit too reminiscent of pooping to immediately register as sexy but there was definitely something — he wiggled his finger experimentally.

…Definitely something to that. Cautiously, his dick started taking note.

Damn, if I get into this am I going to start finding shitting arousing? Issue for later!

Leaning forward, one hand on the tree trunk, he pressed in further. A sting of discomfort, though not enough to dampen his erection. 

Another moment of half mediation — the muscle groups really weren't so far removed from his core, he just wasn't as practiced at controlling them specifically. 

The finger slid in as far as it went. He supposed there was a certain amount of satisfying ‘fullness’ but the strangeness sourly balanced it out. 

He wiggled it around. Slight stretch. Not unpleasant, but not particularly good either. He pulled back a bit — his… entrance seemed like where most of the best sensations were, which didn’t bode well for how massive Lan Zhan was.

Wow I decided pretty fast that I was going to be ‘receiving,’ huh, Wei Wuxian thought with amusement as he slicked a second finger. I guess it supports our cover story. And there’s probably more possibilities with hiding the scar this way… maybe if Lan Zhan stays behind me?

A breeze passed over him again and he shivered, thinking through the logistics as he brought two fingers to his hole and pressed in slowly. A burn, but thinking about Lan Zhan preparing him this way turned the burn the good kind of hot. It really was a sensitive area, and any motion back there nudged at his balls in a promising way. 

He took a few shuddering breaths as he took his time rubbing the inside of the rim, resisting the urge to stroke his now half attentive cock. If he was being honest with himself, he probably wasn’t going to be able to keep up with Lan Zhan’s stamina forever, but still, no need to come early today.

He was confident he could eventually wrangle everything currently tightening involuntarily into perfect control. For right now, he did things the old fashioned way, slowing his breathing until the entire region relaxed. He curled his fingers. The stretch was growing on him, especially when he imagined Lan Zhan’s blazing focus behind him. Damn, I am really a cutsleeve. Wild!

He straightened both fingers to the best of his ability, just about in to the second knuckle, tilting them back and fo—

His vision went white and an embarrassingly wanton moan escaped his throat as he nudged something wonderful.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped. “Holy — wha — ‘sometimes considered an erogenous zone’ my ass —” He found the spot again and pressed it harder.

“FUCK!” 

He wobbled, face falling hard into the tree. A flock of birds startled, cawing upwards. Hitting — Wen Qing had probably said the name but he couldn’t remember what it was — hitting it directly was intense enough to verge on painful — he tried rubbing past instead, and didn’t bother to suppress the groan that was forced out.

More noises escaped as he pushed in deeper than before, then drew his fingers back out so his knuckles slid against the edges of that spot and holy FUCK. It was easy to imagine something wider doing a better, more consistent job, something longer extending the sensation. Yeah, he could definitely imagine something like that working really well.

He pushed in again — and damn — hitting whatever that was seemed to have tipped all of the sensitivity in the area from ‘kindof weird, maybe pooping’ to an entirely distinct ‘almost definitely sex’. The “full” sensation was also quickly growing on him, once he got into the right state of mind, namely thinking about Lan Zhan panting on his neck and flexing fingers against his skin and pressing him into the tree and...

After fucking himself with two fingers for an indeterminate amount of time, he shakily slicked up again to try a third, only to be stymied as his hole clenched down hard, apparently overwhelmed by the rapid new developments. 

Taking a shuddering breath, he looked down at his cock, which was standing fully alert against his stomach. “Later,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t know how many we’ve got in a day, we’ve got to save it or we’re going to embarrass ourselves, got it?” 

His dick throbbed angrily in reply.

He wiped oily fingers on the ground, breathing hard. He looked down again —  yeah. That scar definitely was surgical.

Damn it, Wen Qing, he thought, rueful. Did it have to be so close to my dick? Why the fuck are lower dantians so… lower. 

He pulled an inner robe back on, uncertain how fast and far Lan Zhan was traveling. 

Thoughtfully, he crawled back towards his discarded pants and studied them.

Maybe if I cut an opening over my ass? He chewed on his lip in thought. No, that would be suspicious, wouldn’t it. What guy is alright getting fucked, but not having his dick out?

Unless… what if it’s an accident… a hole rips in the seam and I’m okay with that, but I don’t want to go any further… it’s only a couple more weeks. I could get, like, slowly more comfortable with nudity, right? But not all the way. That would be normal? Maybe I could get to where I’m just wearing a piece of cloth over the one spot. Hm. Oh, shit; I’m an idiot! Waist sash!

Waist sashes were the whole reason he had never bothered to think about hiding the scar before, regardless of how low cut his robes were!

He put his widest belt back on. It covered the needed area, and Wei Wuxian almost cheered, before realizing that in order for it to fall low enough, he had to tie it fairly loosely. Which meant it would take very little creative movement for the belt to slide upwards, and the scar to peek out the bottom. Still, maybe if he anchored it to his pants somehow?

After several minutes’ consideration, he pulled out a knife, and, with extreme care, started ripping out every ninth stitch along the back center seam of his most worn pair of pants. Enough to weaken, but hopefully make it seem natural when friction completed the job. When he finished, he pulled out his other pants, sparingly and erratically repeating the work — every tenth on one, a more complex pattern on the third, hopefully centered in the right place.

He forced himself to stop there; those were the oldest pairs with the most visible wear. Lan Zhan might grow suspicious if all his pants unraveled. Ugh, wearing a belt during sex. But whatever, worth it, and Lan Zhan knows I'm weird. He glanced upward — no sword gleam. 

He pulled out all his clothing, sifting through the options with a critical eye. What he really needed was a completely different style — if he wore Beizis he could have shed the giant thing when making out and keep his belt on without it seeming out of place. Ooh, he could probably get away with less inner robes with an outer layer that massive.

Not exactly a Jiang fashion, but he could definitely make it work. Would probably even go with the whole demonic cultivator thing if he went for black.

…Actually, he was pretty sure he had worn stuff like that during the war, when he had been scavenging clothes of Wen corpses; it made for an impressive silhouette with very little effort. Oh, that was probably why Jiang Cheng had made a point to lecture him on Jiang clothing cuts…

Okay, something to think about later. For now, he would have to make due with what he had.

 Overlayers weren’t intended to be worn again skin, but come could surely be washed out of brocade, right? Lan Zhan was great at washing clothes. 

If he didn’t wear anything beneath one of his tunic or open neck overlayers…

He grinned. 

//

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said quietly from outside his tent.

After all that fretting over how much time he had before Lan Zhan’s return, Wei Wuxian actually managed to fall asleep waiting, though the light looked to only be noonish. “Hey Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian replied, blinking alert. “How did the scouting go?”

“Reasonably sized city seventy li away,” Lan Wangji replied. “But there is no good way to cross mountains from here. Did Wei Ying wish to backtrack, or have me carry him?”

“Eh, yeah, I kind of figured it would be something like that,” Wei Wuxian said, running fingers through his hair to fix it. “But I didn’t get a lot of sleep the last few nights, and this lake is pretty nice, right? I figure we can camp one more night and then Lan Zhan can take me on his sword tomorrow.”

“Mn.” Footsteps started moving away from the tent, and Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, throwing open the entrance and standing up with his arms crossed.

“Lan Zhan,” he whined. “You were supposed to come in the tent. I had an idea while you were gone.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face him, then widened satisfyingly.

“I’m trying something new,” Wei Wuxian said, shrugging in an over-exaggerated motion. He had gone back to the pond to check his reflection and felt fairly confident that once you got over the oddity of just wearing an outer layer, the low tunic cut paired with pants and nothing else was an excellent look. Minimalist styles that allowed for movement in a respectable, fluid fighting context, obviously intended to be layered over decent inner robes, well. Also allowed for fluid movement. 

Wei Wuxian swaggered forward, “I mean, I figure belt sashes always feel like double clothing, especially wide ones, right? And outer layers actually have more weight than inner, but with extra room to breathe!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes lingered on his bared arms and the portion of his chest which were now exposed, which was honestly most of it. He preened under the attention —  Lan Zhan might have absurd Gusu arm muscle, but years of Yunmeng archery practice had to be worth something, right? If anything he had kept up with the bow more since dropping the sword.

“You don’t mind washing an overlayer instead, right?” He asked innocently, putting his foot up on a rock that he definitely hadn’t noted for that specific purpose, smirking as Lan Zhan’s eyes followed the way the fabric split around his pant legs, unhindered by inner robes.

“Double clothing?” Lan Wangji asked blankly. 

“Yeah!” Wei Wuxian said confidently. “You don’t think wearing a belt feels like that?”

A hand reached out and Wei Wuxian danced back, grinning. “Lan Zhan, I said I was tired.”

Lan Wangji exhaled, shoulders straightening and hands pulling behind his back.

“Although,” Wei Wuxian said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I definitely wouldn’t say no to a massage. If Lan-er Gongzi doesn’t need to do more scouting.”

Lan Wangji nodded, hands still hidden to obscure whatever clenching he might be doing, which was telling in its own right. Wei Wuxian spun back to the tent, making sure to bend at the waist as he crawled inside.

It took some coaxing, but he eventually managed to subtly convey that with the exception of the area in front and underneath the waist belt, Lan Zhan’s hands were welcome, even encouraged under the black outer later. Wei Wuxian had cleverly initiated this by laying facedown and pointedly flipping the back aside so there was only one piece of fabric between his ass and the world.

He had briefly considered oiling himself underneath so it would soak through, to further motivate Lan Zhan, but decided that it would probably just look gross. It’s not as if it would make sense for him to naturally get wet like a woman.

Apart from a brief aside where Lan Wangji got distracted by old scars, his plan of moaning during the massage until Lan Zhan was unable to resist rubbing himself against Wei Wuxian’s ass was a wild success — even if his pants did hold up disappointingly well. Eh. Small steps. 

Lan Zhan was even less of a conversationalist after that. As their pants had valiantly taken all of the mess, Wei Wuxian had opted to keep the essentiially clothing arrangement as they idled the rest of the day away — well, he idled, refining his detection designs; Lan Zhan kept running around doing random shit. 

Dealing with slightly abrasive fabric was a worthwhile sacrifice for the moment where Lan Zhan actually tripped because he was too busy staring at where his left nipple repeatedly escaped then disappeared behind fabric.

Between breakthroughs in both the compass and sex options, not to mention Lan Zhan actually massaging his ass (which held a shocking amount of tension), he forgot to be unnerved about Lan Zhan’s niceness until dinner. 

The smell of fish cooking made Wei Wuxian look up.

“Lan Zhan!” he cried. “I could have caught those!”

“Wei Ying was working.”

Wei Wuxian dragged a hand over his face, palm cold with the resentment he had been channeling to etch an iron needle.

“That doesn't mean you have to wait on me hand and foot, lan zhan,” he said, exhausted.

Lan Wangji grunted noncommittally. 

Wei Wuxian groaned. “This better not be because you came more times than me today,” he said moodily. “Because we're not going to count each one, alright? That's a new rule.”

Lan Wangji shook his head, ears pinking. 

Why is this even bothering me, he thought, taking a skewer. Lan Zhan’s being nice. Even if it doesn’t last — he felt a pang.

That’s it, he thought, throat tightening. It’s not any more sustainable than the number of orgasms, or this whole…thing. Worst case scenario, I’m dead and Lan Zhan’s a disgrace. Best case scenario we both go home, and maybe see each other once or twice a year, considering Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng are definitely not going to react well to this.

What’s Lan Zhan going to think when he looks back on this time, after his sect probably forces him into months and months of ice water and mediation? That I shamelessly took advantage of him when he was drunk on good feelings for probably the first time in his life. How will we be able to stay any kind of friends if that happens?

“Can buy more spices in town,” Lan Wangji said, obviously noticing that Wei Wuxian had stopped eating.

Shit, it must have been a long pause, he usually keeps the “no talking during mealtimes” rule. 

“It’s fine,” Wei Wuxian said, forcing a smile.

Lan Wangji immediately stood. “Can be back in one hour,”

“Holy shit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian laughed, a little hysterical. “Really, it’s good! I don’t need every meal to be spicy; I’ve run out of chili oil before. I only stopped eating because I got distracted by thinking.” He took a pointed bite. “Seriously, Lan er-Gongzi is a lot better cook than I ever would have guessed — that’s not an insult about you specifically, it’s just I don’t think of it as a skill a lot of gentry learn.”

Lan Wangji slowly sat back down. “Lan Sect does not keep servants.”

“Oh right, right. Junior disciples do all the servant’s work.”

“Not just juniors.”

“Hm... so Lan cultivators are probably the most well-rounded in practical skills,” he said, genuinely impressed. “Wait — if everyone in Lan Clan can cook, why do you only eat medicinal broth and uncooked leaves at cloud recessess?”

“...Different nutritional needs at rest than on night hunts”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense,” Wei Wuxian mused, actually managing to distract himself thinking about the differences between the clans. “But why no spices?”

“Excessive flavors —”

“Are forbidden, right.” Wei Wuxian rubbed his forehead. “I actually remember copying that one.”

“There is room for ambiguity in its interpretation,” Lan Wangji said quietly, looking down. “I have never witnessed discipline enforced for it.”

Wei Wuxian stuffed more fish in his mouth so he could hum with his mouth full rather than reply. 

Oh gods, he wailed internally. He’s totally the only one who actually tried to follow every single one of those rules, even the ridiculous killjoy ones. Forget drunk on good sensations. This whole week has probably been an opium den of normal-ass pleasures. No wonder he’s going insane.

After very brief consideration, he accepted that there was no way in a million years that he would be able to deny Lan Zhan things that brought both of them joy, just to maybe smooth the transition back and forth between Lan austerity and Wei hedonism. 

Which really only left the opposite alternative.

“I’m done eating,” he said. “If Lan Er-Gege is willing to do more laundry tomorrow.”

Lan Wangji immediately stood.

At the end of all this, he thought, jumping and wrapping his legs around Lan Zhan. He’s either going to be so used to gratification that he’ll be able to make reasonable decisions about what “excess” really is, or look back and think the good was worth the crazy.

Prev (Chapter Eleven) MDZS AU Masterlist

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Ten

Holy FUCK my pants are disgusting. 

It was an unpleasant thought to wake up to. But it was an even more unpleasant sensation.

Setting that aside for the time being, Wei Wuxian forced himself to his hands and knees, arching outward and inward to crack his back into something resembling normal shape. A vision assaulted him — Lan Zhan returning to the tent and catching him in this position. He had to stuff a fist into his mouth to hold back laughter at the following mental image of Hunguang-Jun mounting a clothed man and humping him like a beast until completion. 

Holy shit, he actually would, wouldn’t he? He would for sure be into that.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, refocusing. After a few more stretches, he began the painstaking process of peeling off his pants, wincing where it pulled at sensitive skin and hair. He did his best to scrape himself clean, but fucking hell he needed to bathe. Somewhere that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be tempted to look at his dick and inadvertently learn a secret that would require the Demon of Yunmeng to murder the Lightbearing Lord, something said demon really, really didn’t want to do. 

Ha! Even if I go off on his own, can I trust that Lan Zhan won’t follow to sneak a peek? 

The Honored Second Jade of Lan. Unable to resist peeping. He bit back another round of hysterical giggles. 

He hesitated getting dressed; Lan Zhan's pants looked like a decent enough fit — any minor extra length wouldn’t matter once he had boots on. But dried come was literally flaking off him. Not to mention the sweat. Reluctantly, he searched for one of his soiled pants from last night — just something to get him to the nearest stream. To his confusion, he couldn’t find any of his dirty clothing, just the clean Quinquin pouch. 

Annoyed, he pulled on his second to last clean pants and underrobe — way too nice for his current state and location.

“Oi, Lan Zhan!” he said, clamoring out of the tent. “Did you steal my underwear?”

Lan Wangji was pointedly silent.

It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize that the silence was actually not pointed; Lan Zhan simply wasn’t there.

He looked around more thoroughly, discovering that not only was Lan Zhan gone, but also his tent was missing, so that was a little disturbing. But he figured that Lan Zhan must have stolen it alongside his clothing for some currently inscrutable reason.

There was a bowl with a plate over it, resting on a suspiciously flat tree stump which he was fairly sure hadn’t been there yesterday. Lifting the plate revealed a steaming portion of brilliant red congee, along with what looked like two pheasant’s eggs poached on top. 

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian said outloud. Again, no one answered, but he did notice a note tucked into a crack in the wood, which he pulled out eagerly.

“River two Li Northeast.”

Wei Wuxian sank to the ground, resting on his heels and pressing the note to his forehead. He tried to imagine Lan Zhan’s line of thought. Did he consider writing something like “I made breakfast,” before discarding it as a waste of words? Or did communicating so frivolously sincerely never even cross his mind? Obviously, Lan Zhan had made spicy congee. And hunted down an egg and delicately cooked it. Who else would have done such a thing?

Quickly, he checked to make sure he hadn’t woken in an elaborate illusory trap.

Nope. 

Lifting the bowl revealed a warming talisman, which he had expected — what he hadn’t expected was for it to be one of his designs. Jiang Cheng had complained that his book of slightly more academic than practical talisman adjustments had barely sold enough copies to be worth the hassle of distribution, but he had also complained about him publishing too much on gui, so. 

He supposed he knew that Gusu Lan had always diligently purchased copies of his cultivation treatises, if only to decry them as heresy from an informed high horse before ritually burning them or whatever they did with such things. He hadn’t thought that Lan Zhan was particularly interested in talismanic arts, but he was a distinguished young master with a properly well rounded education.

Still, it was a little flattering. Really, the spellwork was objectively not worth the time it took to draw, but the food maintained significantly better texture than “standard” warming charms. 

Lacking any better plans, Wei Wuxian ate breakfast. It was pretty good. Not quite spicy enough, but very close. 

Since Lan Zhan hadn’t returned by the time he finished, he made his way to the river, opting to leave everything in the tent as it was because if the river had another under-informative note beside it he was going the fuck back to sleep.

When he finally found Lan Zhan, the man was meditating by the water’s edge, which was normal enough. What was strange was the washboard beside him and the  fabric strung delicately from lines that Lan Zhan must have been carrying around with him. 

No, wait, the lengths of cord aren’t strange — who the fuck carries a washboard around? Aren’t Lan robes spelled to look like that?

“You didn’t actually have to clean my underwear,” Wei Wuxian said, approaching.

“Taking responsibility,” Lan Zhan said, opening his eyes.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “If you say so.”

Lan Wangji rose, frowning at Wei Wuxian’s legs. “Will fetch this morning’s clothing.”

“Lan Zhan you don’t have to —” But he was already moving. Wei Wuxian just barely managed to grab his arm as he passed. “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji stopped, looking at him. This close, the small height difference between them was a bit more noticeable, if only because Wei Wuxain was fairly unused to tilting his head back to talk with anybody.

“Ah —” he said, briefly distracted, before marshaling his exasperation. “If this is because of, you know, the stuff we did — you really don’t have to. Very willing participant and all that.”

Lan Zhan nodded solemnly.

“Washing my clothes isn’t actually your responsibility. That was a joke.”

“Mn.” 

Wei Wuxian let go, and Lan Zhan continued the way he was walking.

“I —” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Zhan again, opened his mouth, then gave up; his dick was too itchy for this conversation. Maybe he likes cleaning? And… stealing bird’s eggs? “Fine, whatever, I’m going to go wash, I've got come practically glueing my legs together — you’re, uh, staying in this section of river, right?”

“Mn.”

He hesitated, but felt the need to ask again. “...You’re sure? No wandering up or downstream from here?”

Lan Wangji lowered his head.

“I mean if you say you won’t, I believe you, of course, just…” he trailed off weakly. 

“Will not dishonor Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji swore, looking up with golden eyes that were WAY too intense considering the frivolity of the subject matter. Unfortunately, that actually was the level of intensity he needed Lan Zhan to bring to the table on this particular promise.

“Right.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. Lan Zhan’s face was very close.

Very close.

//

 “I really need to bathe,” Wei Wuxian insisted hoarsely, pulling back from Lan Zhan’s mouth.

Lan Zhan’s throat bobbed as he nodded. His fingers released all at once from Wei Wuxian’s ass, then he disappeared back towards camp in a swirl of white.

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his face, allowing himself twenty seconds to just stand there breathing heavily before pushing his way downstream. 

Alright, Lan Zhan has to be the one who’s unusual here, not me, he thought mournfully. He came twice last night and once this morning, same as me! How is he hard again? I mean, I’m not not impressed but seriously! Chafing!

Mind gradually warming up to the day, he resolved not to spend overlong mulling over the cutsleeve stuff between him and Lan Zhan. Based on how the last few days had gone, there were even odds everything would dramatically change between them again by tomorrow morning. In any case, he had bigger things to worry about  — namely the trial that had started all this.

Even with an increasingly credible and scandalously appealing alternate story, there were a hundred different ways it still might come to a fight. And he wouldn’t ask Jiang Cheng to spend sect lives and honor defending him.

It was entirely possible that they were approaching the point where Jin sect would give up on subtlety in their quest to seize the Yin Tiger Tally; they might already be there, if it turned out this whole “conference” was just a trap to lure him into prepared killing grounds.

Unless he chose to run and leave behind this mess entirely — something he couldn’t quite bring himself to do while there was still a slim chance of returning home — he was walking into that tower. Into terrain that the Jin would have ample time to prepare against him.

He whistled idly — a few lost spirits perked up in the distance, but nothing strong enough to be worth the effort of hunting down and trapping. What he really needed was a proper unsanctified mass grave, or a powerful ghoul. 

Ooh, maybe if I finish that tracking tool? Where was I with that? Oh yeah, multiple sensitivities… okay, if i give up on distinguishing between types of resentful energy and just amplify power…

By the time he made it back to camp, he was so lost in his thoughts that he barely greeted Lan Zhan, opting instead to immediately spread out paper on the conveniently flat stump, frantically trying to get his thoughts down before he lost their pattern. He definitely meant to say something to him at some point, but then he had an idea for amplification riding off the connection between iron and dragon lines…

It wasn’t until he finished charming a shaved iron needle floating in a cup of tea that he realized he had no idea where the tea had come from.

Blinking, he looked around. Another crude yet level table had appeared to his right, already covered with paper. Damn, Did I miss Lan Zhan chopping down a tree? Again? He looked around. More tables. Ok, not all stumps — I missed Lan Zhan chopping up a tree. Maybe two. And also carrying the pieces around.

What the actual fuck, he thought, flummoxed. 

Sure, he had gotten into this sort of flow before, but to where he completely ignored his surroundings? Only behind a dozen layers of wards — an actual mo could have walked right up to him and cut his head off for all the attention he had been paying.

He stood, popping his fingers and cracking his back. Lan Zhan wasn’t far, seated on the ground a short walk away. He was doing something with his hands. Grinding ink. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t remember pausing to grind ink. Despite having clearly been writing for hours. And his fingers weren’t peeled open. So he obviously hadn’t absentmindedly started using blood.

His heart did something funny. 

Lan Zhan looked up.

“...I’m finished,” Wei Wuxian said, not sure where to begin with the tea and the tables and the ink  and the pants and the egg. “At least for now. I’ll need to pick up some decent copper for a casing. I guess I could use wood, but it wouldn’t maintain… anyway.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan put down the inkstone. His fingers were stained black. Wei Wuxian looked down — his own hands were a lot worse, though the black of his robe did a lot to hide mess beyond that.

If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other, he thought.

“If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other,” he said.

The whites of Lan Wangji’s eyes ran red even as gold was edged out by black. 

“Wait, you can hold me up with no effort?” Wei Wuxian asked a minute or so later, heels wrapped around Lan Zhan’s back, Lan Zhan’s hands forming a seat with no apparent strain, and apparently enough extra energy to do a fair amount of pinching. 

“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirmed, switching to one hand to show off, which incidentally settled more of Wei Wuxian’s weight onto a few spread out points across his ass.

“Ngh,” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan used his now free hand to work at a somewhat tangled red hair ribbon. “Wait, I had a point — so tha — aa — at means you didn’t even nEED to pin me against things! You just did it because you wanted to!” 

“Frees my hands,” Lan Zhan argued reasonably.

“Yeah but think about it —” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan walked them towards the tent. “You didn’t even have to wait until I was up in that tree to tackle me, back at the hunt! You could have just grabbed me and held me up in the air like this.”

Lan Zhan froze. “Shameless!” he hissed through clenched teeth. Down below his cock jumped, nudging at Wei Wuxian’s ass somewhat left of center.

Wei Wuxian cackled. “Oh man! Does that always happen when you call me shameless?! If I had sat in your lap back when I was studying at cloud recesses would we have figured this out a lot sooner?”

Lan Zhan finished pulling the ribbon free, and Wei Wuxian felt his hair fall down on his shoulders.

“Not…always.” 

Wei Wuxian cackled some more.

Did Lan Zhan’s eyes soften? Wait, was that an honest, intentional joke?

“I knew you were funny,” Wei Wuxian crowed, delighted.

//

Yunmeng Zhi Mo sat leaning against a tree, watching with amusement as Hunguang-Jun methodically worked mostly white pants along a washboard. 

“You know you really don’t have to do that.”

“Mn.”

“I mean we’re even on orgasms, aren’t we? I feel like things are pretty fair, as far as that’s concerned.”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” he said, exasperated. “Grinding my ink — cleaning my clothing— you’ve been acting super weird since we started, you know. Why are you doing all this stuff for me?”

Lan Zhan dunked the cloth in the water. “Want to,” he finally said, not turning around. The back of his ears were pink.

Wei Wuxian sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

I guess this is what happens when someone that repressed gets to start having orgasms, he thought ruefully. He’ll get over it once the novelty wears off. Probably. 

“Oh!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Did you pack my tent?”

“Mn.”

“Why?”

“...Wanted to be ready to travel.”

“Okay…” he said slowly, eyeing the clothing on the line.

“Dried it first,” Lan Zhan added, misreading the look.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Dried? What, you actually wasted spiritual energy on that?”

“Not waste. Prevents mold.”

“I —” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Alright, thanks I guess?”

“No need.”

“But you strung up clotheslines for our pants, because…”

“More delicate fabric.”

“Right, sure, but why — you know, whatever, it doesn't matter. How do you feel about detouring a bit towards Chang'an? One of the trade towns that direction should have some decent metals.”

“...Not the way to Carp Tower.”

“How long would it take you to fly us to Lanling, if you went fast? At most it would be a few hours from here, right?”

“Mn.”

“So why bother rushing! Worse comes to worse, we can leave the night before. I don’t want to stay in that snakepit any longer than I have to, and I strongly suspect the feeling is mutual."

Wei Wuxian paused, grimacing at the idea of actually showing up early for this thing.

"I’m not saying we shouldn’t generally move that direction," he added quickly. "To be on the safe side, and its probably not a great idea for us to be spotted flying all over the place together — I think the element of surprise will work best to avoid giving the Jin too much time to prepare —  but, anyway, my point is — wouldn’t you rather spend the next couple weeks enjoying ourselves while we prepare for the shitshow?”

Lan Zhan glanced back, eyes raking up and down Wei Wuxian’s body.

“...Mn.”

Prev (Chapter Ten) MDZS AU Masterlist Next (Chapter 12)

[nevertheless-moving]

happy Thursday the 20th

[nevertheless-moving]

yeah that scene pleased me inordinately

"Fornication," Wit whispered, staring with haunted eyes at nothing. "That's not Rayse at all. He stole - that reproducing bastard. He stole my breaths."

The rage in the generally amicable man's voice was enough to dissuade Kaladin from asking about the bizarre word choice.

Shallan, evidently, did not have that problem.

"Fornication?" she repeated incredulously.

"It's a curse word," Wit said through gritted teeth. "Used to be common, but it's fallen out of favor among shardplanets the last several thousand years for some stupid CHILD CREATING reason."

Wit snarled, pacing the tent furiously.

"Which is a real PLEASURABLE PHYSICAL INTERACTION shame because now i sound really copulatingly stupid swearing with connection based direct translations, but cursing by 'Gods' or the dead or the weather or whatever intense intimacy else this vigorous impregnation planet swears by is NOT as satisfying when i am this LOVEMAKINGLY angry."

Wit kicked a chair, which flew with shocking force, tearing a hole in sturdy canvas siding. He stared at the tear, exhausted, then collapsed, arms wrapping around himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Jasnah, who was approaching cautiously, in full Armour. "I shouldn't have done that. I generally don't have enough of a temper to lose it like that, but...gender neutral attempt at babies. He stole my breaths. I don't even know how much I lost...it will take decades to do an inventory, and even then...there's important secrets I vowed to protect. Lost people I swore to remember. Oaths I can't even properly remember making anymore, but I have to - I..."

Jasnah knelt down, taking Wit in her arms as he wept softly.

"And I can't even coitally curse right anymore," he sobbed.

[nevertheless-moving]

Fun thing about football right now is that there's a move called the "brotherly shove" that the Eagles do when they're very close to scoring, where the whole team puts their hands on the ass of the guy with the ball and physically propels him over the line into the endzone for the touchdown, and all the other teams' fans hate it because it's got such a ridiculously high rate of success for the Eagles and doesn't really seem to work for any other team. People are straight-up calling for this move to be banned, claiming it's "unstoppable" and gives an "unfair advantage" but it really and truly is a skill issue. The whole league hates this move because it only makes the Eagles win more often and nobody else can figure out how to do it right

[nevertheless-moving]

real love is spitting in each other’s mouths