#this was supposed to be cute and quick oneeeee

[randomingoftherandomness]

Wang Yao x Lan Jue

The first meeting after the war, and the promised meal.

Hi friend! Thank you for the prompt. I'm assuming you mean Wang Yan and not Wang Yao? (ง ื▿ ื)ว In any case! Enjoy! This one may have taken a life of its own haha

[Currently still accepting ALoN Fic Prompts]

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"I would have been equally as happy to have this meal at your house."

Peizhi merely smiles in response, gaze darting across the table to spy at the way Mowen is lazily fanning himself while watching the serving girls artfully arrange the first round of their dishes for this evening.

Hiding the way his lips twitch in quiet amusement, he takes a deep sip of his cup of tea.

"I made a promise that I intended to keep, Mowen," Peizhi says gently when the girls bow, moving on delicate footsteps to retreat from their room. "A meal to celebrate your victory."

Mowen huffs, rolling his eyes. "Please stop. It's as if you don't already know that the threshold of my father's residence has almost been worn down by all those grateful families looking to hitch their daughters, sisters, or some such to me."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Mowen parts his lips, eyes wide as if this, of all the insanities and terrors that Peizhi has ever spouted, is the one thing he has never expected to come out of him.

Peizhi expects him to respond in his typical bluster. To reply with some dismissive comment or another about how men like him need to be picky about who they choose as their partner, to wave away his comment with a laugh and a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Instead, Mowen closes his mouth, pursing his lips and says nothing.

Peizhi sighs, moving to refill Mowen's empty cup. "I can do that," Mowen says shortly, taking the teapot away and topping up his cup himself.

Watching him as he takes the practised motions of ladling out a bowl of soup for Peizhi, placing the best cuts of meat and vegetables on his plate before he even takes any for himself, Peizhi is struck with a sense of forlorn at the singular realisation that, ah, I've made him mad.

"Mowen-ah..."

"Eat," Mowen says curtly. "Eat up."

Heart thudding in his chest, twisting just that bit painfully, Peizhi plucks up his own chopsticks to do as he is told.

Mowen does not say anything and Peizhi feels, for the very first time in the hours and days and months and years they've shared together, lost.

"I didn't mean to offend you," He tries when the silence drags on. "You know I do not mean--"

"You meant what you said, Peizhi," Mowen interrupts, gaze kept low. "Don't disrespect yourself or me by telling me that you didn't mean to say what you said."

The unspoken, do not disrespect us and everything we have shared hangs heavy in the air, and Peizhi is seized by a shame that chokes him from the inside out.

Because it is true. He has meant every word he has ever said when it came to them. Every shred of honesty shared in the midnight hours when there was nothing between them but the night air and the tangle of their hairs on brocade pillow. Every single unspooled tenderness on love-marked skin, every decadent secret told only in kisses and breaths brushing against cheek and jaw.

Peizhi has always meant it.

Which is why he has to make Mowen understand.

"Do you truly believe it does not hurt to hear about how one family after another has attempted to marry their girls off to you? Do you truly think that my heart is that fickle when it comes to you?"

Mowen looks up at him. The corner of his eyes tinged with red, brown eyes dark with hurt.

"I find that I know you less and less," He answers. "Our first meeting since I came back, and you're trying to marry me off. My lover whom I've not seen for many months, the same one I've fought life and limb to come back to, is the one person I did not expect would try to do that."

Guilt holds Peizhi by the throat.

Abandoning his seat, he crosses over to Mowen, letting out an unbidden cry when he is welcomed into strong arms with no resistance. Somewhere outside their little private room, someone laughs. There's a floating note of music. It's neither the time nor place for them to be doing this, but Peizhi cannot bring himself to care.

It's too public a place for a final surrender, and yet, Peizhi cannot think of a better setting.

"Forgive me," He begs, pressing a kiss to Mowen's temple. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply. Lets Mowen tangles his hands in his robes. Allows himself to be moved to straddle Mowen's lap.

"Do you really want me to marry someone else?"

Peizhi does not hesitate to shake his head. Keeping his eyes fixed on Mowen, he shakes his head again as he cups the sides of his neck. "No. Never."

"Then please," Mowen whispers. "Please never say that to me again. Even if the Emperor himself commanded me to, I won't marry anyone. In this life, I'll only ever have you."

Heart caught between sadness and elation, Peizhi, presses their brows together. Synching their breaths, he lets Mowen lay him down on his back. Lets the air in his lungs be stolen by kisses and drowns in the familiar weight of Mowen's body finally pressing on his own.

Fingertips caress his cheek. Peizhi nuzzles into sword-calloused palm. "We should have had this dinner at home."

"Now you know," Mowen scoffs, leaning in to kiss the corner of his smile. "Haven't seen you in months and you drag me out for dinner when we could be having the same meal in bed."

"In bed?"

"In bed," Mowen confirms, pulling back, and taking Peizhi with him as he goes. "Half naked with me feeding you."

Peizhi bites back the chuckle that threatens to escape him.

He straightens his clothes and looks over the dishes while Mowen does the same for his own. Presentable enough or not, it really doesn't matter, he'll make sure that Xu Dong picks them up via the back door. Maybe he can get the servers to pack this up for tomorrow's meal.

"I'll be going to pick Lan Hui up in a fortnight to come to live at Lan Manor again."

"That's good, I think he'd be happy to be home again," Mowen answers, reaching over easily to redo his crown with practised ease.

Reaching up to wrap a hand around Mowen's wrist, he says, "Come with me."

"What? Are you so eager to announce to your son that I've finally made an honest man of you?"

Peizhi lets loose a short bark of laughter, leaning into him. "No, I want to tell him that I'm taking him home and surround him with family again. And I want you there when I do it."

Mowen raises an eyebrow before teasingly asking, "And you want to tell him you've gotten him a new stepmother? Is that why you want me to be there? Should I dress in some women's things? I think I could pass for a pretty woman if Lan Hui's eyesight is a bit shot from all the reading you make him do."

"Rascal," Peizhi chides, moving aside to call for a server. After he relays his orders, he turns back to Mowen, drinking in the sight of him. "Though I would need to pay an astronomical dowry for your hand in marriage, I would do it. Just so that I can see you in a dress."

Mowen's laughter rings loud and happy in the room. When he closes the distance between them, he eyes up the door before sneaking in a quick peck to Peizhi's cheek. "Even in a dress, I'll still have my Lan-daren under me, panting and aching for me and only me."

A frisson of desire starbursts up his spine at the timbre of Mowen's voice and the dancing of his breath on Peizhi's heated skin. Eyes fluttering open, he swallows tightly. "Check on the server and tell him to hurry up."

Dark eyes flicker over his face, glinting with mischief. "Whatever my husband asks of me," Mowen purrs in reply.