hold the bright moon in my arms
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own MDZS or The Untamed and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter 4
Wei Wuxian woke slowly to the sound of guqin music, played in that refined way he would always recognize as Lan Zhan's style, and he let himself drift on the music for a while, a song of clarity powered with Lan Zhan's qi, gently bolstering his own to promote calm and healing.
It was a strange parallel to how he woke in the Cloud Recesses after his resurrection, his mask removed while he was unconscious, but Lan Zhan's playing then had been different, more hesitant, and he knew now how their miscommunication had harmed him. He could remember how disheveled Lan Zhan had been then, and knowing the reason now made his heart ache, that he had caused him so much grief.
"I think he's awake," came a too-loud whisper, definitely Jingyi, and the teen's presence would make him smile if not for the worry threaded in the cadence of his voice.
He finally opened his eyes, the lids heavy enough that he knew he must have terrible bags under his eyes, not that he could remember a time without them. Sometimes he wondered if he was resurrected with them still following him from his past life, just as everything else followed him.
Lan Zhan was seated on the floor, looking serene, with no hint that he had just flown from Gusu to Qinghe in barely a day, just as put together and—
Wow, how had he never actually realized how much he admired Lan Zhan and that there might be more behind it? So much for being a genius.
Jingyi abruptly blocked his view, kneeling beside the bed with all his windswept messiness making it clear he just journeyed by sword, and Wei Wuxian almost smiled at the dichotomy.
"Wei-qianbei, when the letter arrived about your qi deviation we flew all the way here right away, with no stops at all! Sizhui is still with the Gho— I mean, with Wen-gongzi in Qishan or I'm sure he'd've come, too!"
He sounded so earnest and worried that Wei Wuxian felt a wave of fondness, but for Lan Zhan more than Jingyi.
"Aiya, Lan Zhan, how did you raise such empathetic juniors?"
Lan Zhan's expression was almost the ghost of a smile when he responded, Jingyi having moved to the side so Wei Wuxian could see it, deferential to his seniors.
"I considered what Wei Ying would do."
The compliment twisted at something inside him uncomfortably, his sincerity almost painful for more reasons than Wei Wuxian cared to explore in mixed company.
"Spare this delicate man, Hanguang-Jun," he finally managed when he was able to speak again, too overcome for a real response.
A healer came in, likely summoned by Jingyi's exuberance. Once she assessed his meridians, she cleared him to attend lunch, but added even more restrictions, banning any use of even small amounts of spiritual energy and urging him not to stress his body too much, which basically left him with no distractions for the foreseeable future.
Somehow this was all Nie Huaisang's fault.
The song ended, leaving a pregnant silence, and Wei Ying felt heavy and discombobulated, but then Jingyi's stomach rumbled loudly, the poor boy likely starving after his flight, and Wei Ying couldn't help but laugh.
"I guess we should get lunch before you fall over," he teased the youth, easing himself into a sitting position.
He caught Lan Zhan's gaze and the amusement in it, hidden by his normal deadpan face, filled him with unspeakable fondness, and he grinned.
"I've practiced inedia," Jingyi muttered, slightly petulant, but then his stomach gurgled again, and this time he joined in when Wei Ying laughed.
Lan Zhan, still the picture of grace, busied himself stowing his guqin in his qiankun sleeve, then rose in a single smooth movement, striding steadily to the bedside to offer his hand to Wei Wuxian.
He felt frozen for a moment by his zhiji's steady gaze, and then he took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be helped up, something he normally would eschew, too focused on standing on his own back then to recognize that Lan Zhan was right there.
Though not touching, Lan Zhan was close enough beside him to feel his warmth as they made their way to lunch, distracting enough that he barely noticed Jingyi impatient with their pace behind them. He kept up a safe ramble about what he'd been doing in Qinghe since his arrival, eventually commenting on how ridiculously big his quarters were. Much of his last life he had made do, only having had particularly large quarters during his time in the Burial Mounds, which had been significantly less comfortable with far fewer amenities.
"Honestly, they're almost too big for one person," Wei Wuxian said idly, then went quiet as he realized that was on purpose, damn Nie-xiong, and he'd just blurted it out like a fool.
Lan Zhan shifting to glance at him as they walked brought him back to himself, and he forced a smile, but let it drop when he noticed the concern in his eyes.
"I'm just not used to that sort of thing—they're much bigger than even the ones I had back…"
He tripped over his words, having instinctively almost said 'home,' when there was no returning to Lotus Cove, the one that had once been his home no longer in existence, razed with its people slaughtered, a shade of what it had been haunting his memory.
"Well," he tried to salvage, "back before the war, anyway."
Back before the world had largely stopped making sense, before indoctrination, before Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen had been killed and Lotus Pier burned, before he'd given his future to Jiang Cheng and fallen into darkness.
The attempt to salvage was, unfortunately, a worse verbal blunder than the one he'd started with, and on more levels than he cared to count. Of all the possible times for his mouth to move ahead of his brain, of course it was this one, when he had very little face left to save but just enough that it made him feel uncomfortably open.
Thankfully, they reached the dining room before he had to find more words, before he had to address the look of steady compassion Lan Zhan was giving him, the one that made his soul itch in this body that was disturbingly not quite like the one he'd worn when he died.
The surprise presences of Nie Hengxiang and Nie Yingwei helped distract him further from the need to find more words for Lan Zhan, as he used the opportunity to introduce them. They greeted him as 'Wei-qianbei,' which earned what sounded suspiciously like a hissed 'yes!' from Jingyi, and a curious glance from Lan Zhan.
Nie Hengxiang was easier to introduce, in a way, as the capable junior Nie Huaisang sent to protect him, the story of their meeting falling easily from his mouth, how he'd essentially woken up to find he'd been saved from assassination, and then learned it hadn't been the first, just the first to get close enough for the struggle to wake him.
Lan Wangji only nodded in appreciation, but Lan Jingyi was a bit more exuberant.
"Thanks for protecting Wei-qianbei," he said, bowing appropriately, but with a grin that was far less decorous. "You'd think people would leave him alone since he was proved innocent."
He seemed frustrated, his tone almost a scoff, affronted on Wei Wuxian's behalf, and it warmed him that the boy held him in such regard, more so by Nie Hengxiang's agreement with the sentiment. He knew well enough that Jin Guangyao's machinations didn't fully exonerate him, that the path to his downfall had been cleared by his decisions and actions, as well, but it was nice to be seen in a positive light by the younger generation after being so reviled.
Nie Yingwei was harder to explain because Lan Zhan would no doubt hear the significance of the name. He also didn't want to blunder ahead and overstep what she might and might not want public. He wound up introducing her as an adopted member of the Nie clan, with her courtesy name and a gesture toward Nie Huaisang to put him back in the hot seat so he could feel less on the spot.
It was his turn, anyway.
If saving someone made one responsible for them for a lifetime, surely bringing a man back to life (in part to do one's dirty work) made one indebted enough that Nie-xiong could do him this favor.
Of course, Nie Huaisang handled it smoothly, telling him of the crèche, introducing Nie Yingwei as the first ward adopted into the clan through it and the reason for its development, his tone matter of fact, with just enough information that Lan Wangji would be able to come to the conclusion himself the deeper reasons he had been moved to save her to begin with. Wei Wuxian didn't dare look at either of them, not able to face their shared grief and the implications of conversations had during the years of his death that he couldn't even begin to guess at.
He didn't know how to address any of it, now that he was alive again and cognizant of that sixteen-year grief, which understandably wasn't magically erased just because he was back. Eventually he'd have to deal with it, but until then Wei Wuxian knew the value of a good retreat to conserve and build the energy it would require.
As they were escorted to their seats by the servants, Wei Wuxian was glad to focus solely on his lunch, full of yin foods—a millet congee with pork belly, duck eggs, and a bok choy, clams in black bean sauce, and a plate of fresh fruits, sliced and ready to eat with a drizzle of honey, all of which smelled delicious despite being devoid of peppers. Lan Jingyi joined several other Lan disciples, ones Wei Wuxian recognized from the Yi City incident, the plate on his tray piled with the fried chicken he was so obsessed with, once again showing Nie-xiong's use of intelligence.
Wei Wuxian was taking a sip of a rather lovely fruit tea to cleanse his palate before the meal when Nie Huaisang finished explaining the crèche, and Nie Yingwei decided to contribute.
"Zongzhu named me after Wei-qianbei," she said blandly, and Wei Wuxian only barely managed not to choke. "He started the crèche to honor him, so fewer kids would grow up in the streets."
Nie Huaisang wasn't quite quick enough to hide his blush behind his fan at the point-blank revelation, something Nie Yingwei seemed to take pride in.
Lan Jingyi choked slightly and whispered, "Sizhui!" to himself far too loudly.
Wei Wuxian realized all at once that A-Yuan's courtesy name was… eerily similar, if much deeper and suggestive of a different sort of grief. He felt raw.
Lan Zhan studied Nie Huaisang for a moment, as though weighing how it altered his opinion of the Nie sect leader, before nodding in approval.
"It is a noble endeavor," he said simply.
"Cultivation isn't my strong point," Nie Huaisang admitted ruefully, "so I had to find another way to protect the weak."
With exactly no more patience for etiquette, Wei Wuxian decided the best way out of this situation was to simply start eating ahead of Nie Huaisang, who wouldn't be offended and might even understand his need to not be present for this conversation. Lan Zhan would adhere to his reliable rule of no speech while eating. Hopefully they wouldn't somehow circle back to it after lunch.
He wasn't running away from it so much as delaying, but Wei Wuxian would take what he could get.
The faux pas of eating even a piece of fruit before a sect leader led to a pause in conversation, but it was weirdly devoid of judgment.
Nie Huaisang laughed, but thanked him for starting.
"Nie-daifu would have my head if I delayed your meal any further, and of course our visitors have traveled swiftly and need a good meal."
Wei Wuxian distinctly heard Jingyi mutter "Finally" under his breath, and was glad at least he appreciated it—he'd probably been waiting to eat since Lan Zhan arrived, poor kid.
He knew he'd have to face Lan Zhan later, and do so more clearly after that because apparently coming back to life was complicated, but for now he could just focus on eating and leave that problem for future him to deal with. Wei Wuxian had always done his best thinking while otherwise occupied, so he focused on his meal, starting with the clams, enjoying the flavor the Nie cooks had brought into the bean sauce.
When he glanced at Nie Huaisang he was in the middle of making some sort of expression at Lan Zhan, as though he was trying to have a silent conversation, and he quickly hid his face behind his fan when he saw Wei Wuxian looking; Lan Zhan, on the other hand, gave no indication he noticed Nie-xiong, though Wei Wuxian made sure he kept his eyes on his food when he turned toward him.
Lan Zhan had concerns for his health, and they were probably complicated by his knowledge of Wei Wuxian's jindan. He'd died without one, after all, and having Mo Xuanyu's, but in a body apparently his own, was unprecedented. Lan Zhan would of course worry for his health, he was so good.
The truth was, though, that after lunch he would have to face that worry, and the underlying emotions that Wei Wuxian was now aware of, both in himself and Lan Zhan. The cause of his small qi deviations was emotional, not anything else, and he couldn't allow him to keep worrying about his health when it was as easily resolved as a conversation.
So he made sure to finish the food on his tray, knowing the healers had decided portions and hoping to fortify himself for the inevitable discussion. Normally he'd talk through the meal, but the thought of coming up with the words was daunting, so he kept his attention on his food, eventually picking at the last bits of fruit, not trying to delay further, but not speeding toward it either.
Once, he'd have spent half the meal flicking melon seeds at Lan Jingyi just for his own amusement (and because Jingyi couldn't complain or retaliate with Lan Zhan right beside Wei Wuxian), something that seemed to be too much trouble right now. Wei Wuxian knew this likely worried Lan Zhan, too, but it was really just that he was tired. As it turned out, qi deviations were exhausting, and he had spent more time asleep than awake since his, so perhaps the worry was unavoidable.
Nie Huaisang eventually ordered the Nie disciples to show the Lan contingent to their quarters and around the Unclean Realm if they so desired, announced that Hanguang-Jun's quarters would be ready after the evening meal, and then promptly excused himself to "attend to sect business," using the appearance of servants to clear the trays as a distraction to enable him to disappear through a side door before Wei Wuxian could even react, the little shit.
Lan Zhan stood smoothly, unruffled, and turned to the juniors.
"You have pushed your cores in the trip. Please use the afternoon to rest and meditate," he told them as he dismissed them.
Lan Jingyi looked relieved enough that he could have fallen over in exhaustion, but he immediately saluted with his peers and let the Nie disciples lead the way out. He made sure to stop by Wei Wuxian and wish him a good rest of his day, punctuated with a yawn.
Lan Zhan's expression when he turned to Wei Wuxian, holding out a hand to help him up, was almost unbearably soft, full of emotions he wasn't sure he was ready to face, but he knew it was long overdue. He took the proffered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet, feeling much like a maiden being courted.
Wei Wuxian could feel heat rush to his face, and knew he was blushing like just such a young maiden. He was actually relieved when Lan Zhan took his flushed cheeks as something the healers should check to be certain he was well, pulling him toward the infirmary. Relieved and a strange combination of guilt and happiness, regretful for putting Lan Zhan through more worry, but also seeing the evidence of his care…
The healer, of course, said he was fine and was pleased he had eaten his meal and looked much better than earlier, sending them off with several pouches of tea to enjoy.
With the medicinal tea in hand, Wei Wuxian was only able to delay so much before they inevitably wound up in his quarters for a conversation he didn't even know how to start, but he valiantly led the way through a garden on the way, using a koi pond as a nice excuse to dally.
He knew full well that Nie Huaisang had manufactured the delay in accommodations for Lan Zhan to meddle, and he wasn't sure whether to be irritated or grateful.
Irritated, he decided when they arrived at his quarters to find the large stone tub off the main room had been filled with steaming hot water, with flower petals sprinkled atop in a way he could play off as a medicinal bath, but he wasn't going to insult Lan Zhan's intelligence by attempting to lie.
Lan Zhan took the bagged tea for him and had him sit at the low table, which was at least stocked with snacks, going to brew it himself, and Wei Wuxian settled in to watch him, not able to do anything else, his eye drawn to his zhiji's graceful motions. Then Lan Zhan looked up as he set the brewing teapot on the table and sat in a smooth motion, and he was helpless to look away.
"Your qi deviations?" he asked, his soft voice concerned, as usual wasting no words.
"Ah… as it turns out strong emotions can disrupt qi, especially in developing or damaged cores," Wei Wuxian said, trying to adopt the intonation of a scholar discussing something mundane.
The explanation did not ease the concern that was emanating from Lan Zhan, who reached forward to take his wrist, glancing up at him as though to ask permission, which Wei Wuxian gave with a nod, before sending a small stream of his qi though to check himself. He tried very hard not to shiver at the feel of Lan Zhan's qi singing though his meridians.
"Which?" he asked, his voice strained, and Wei Wuxian realized with a start that Lan Zhan, though he knew he had died without a core, wouldn't know if the core Mo Xuanyu left him had been damaged, and so his attempt to explain had only worried him further.
"Mo Xuanyu's core is weak, but undamaged," he said, feeling off-balance in the discussion. "It's barely a foundation, just enough to cause trouble."
He felt off-balance in the discussion, in the way it felt like it was already going sideways, with him worrying Lan Zhan again by speaking without thinking, and he distracted himself for a minute pouring tea for each of them and taking a sip, breathing in the steam wafting from his cup and hoping it could ease some of the stress he felt.
"You will refine it, as you did before."
The confidence in his voice helped, his faith in Wei Wuxian's abilities and determination, the acknowledgement of his capabilities–and he had always had faith, even in the darkest times of the war, when Wei Wuxian was drowning in resentment and Lan Zhan worried for his health.
In some ways that made it worse since, as he had told Nie Huaisang, he'd known from the moment he was dropped into the Burial Mounds that his days were numbered. As terribly as he'd died, it had honestly bee something of a relief to be freed of it all by the time it happened, and he knew full well that, past or not, that would make Lan Zhan worry more about him, and he'd done quite enough of that for two lifetimes.
"It won't be easy, but I'm used to attempting the impossible," Wei Wuxian said after a moment, then tried not to wince at using the Yunmeng Jiang motto when he definitely isn't part of the sect.
He was certain Lan Zhan noticed—he didn't comment on the matter of the Jiang clan and Jiang Cheng (not that he ever would vocally), but a brief shift in expression reminded Wei Wuxian that there was a lot of unpleasant history between Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng that wasn't likely to ever change because they both held grudges.
"Treatises exist regarding the link between emotion and qi disruption, particularly in developing cores," Lan Zhan said instead, his way of asking gently for information.
"It's troublesome; just things from before, things I never had a chance to think about because things got messy."
The end of his first life had involved the Siege of the Burial Mounds and being ripped apart by fierce corpses, after all, and there were large holes in his memory, spans of time that were missing, when he knew time was passing and the world kept moving, but he had no recollection of any of it and he didn't even know how to begin to find the words to discuss it, as much as he talked.
"Water can carry a boat and also overturn it," Lan Zhan said.
Though Xunzi intended the sentiment to refer to the need for rulers to consider the needs of the people, Wei Wuxian could see how it applied—he couldn't ignore his own needs anymore without capsizing.
"That's why I left to travel, kind of, but I can't do that dodging assassins."
Nie Hengxiang had been following him for some time, and he had no doubt he'd witnessed Wei Wuxian struggle—he had difficult nights thinking about Shijie and Wen Qing, other ghosts from the past, unable to keep from poring over his own memories of the last few months of his first life, and at least one difficult night he had gotten ahold of some Lotus Breeze and had been lost in grief. It was a minor miracle that the young man hadn't been scared off, but the Unclean Realm had already had to clean up after him, and he knew at some point he'd feel stifled, and he wouldn't be able to leave until the assassination issue was dealt with.
Or, more realistically, others would fuss if he even tried, and it was only a matter of time before he wound up blowing up his workroom out of sheer boredom, at least once the Nie puzzle was solved.
"I will speak with Nie-zongzhu," Lan Zhan promised.
Wei Wuxian was filled with affection. All his life, or lives, he had fallen and, with no one to catch him. He'd lost his fear of falling long ago, but hitting the ground hurt. If someone was there to catch him…
Lan Zhan had made it a point to stay by his side after his return, and had tried to before he'd died, when Wei Wuxian hadn't let him. In this life, he had quietly offered unwavering support, even carried him. Now Lan Zhan had again flown to his side as though to catch him, offering the sort of soft landing he craved.
Impossible as it seemed, Wei Wuxian wanted nothing more than to never be apart from him again.
"Nie-xiong has it in hand, I'm sure."
He knew Nie Huaisang likely would deal with the issue of stopping whoever was sending the assassins in whatever way he saw fit, and he knew better than to request details from him. Wei Wuxian would prefer not to know, and tried not to feel guilt at the same time—Nie Huaisang was capable of much, probably as much as he was toward the end of his first life, but perhaps less foolish about it, and he had enough blood on his own hands. Where ignorance was bliss, it was folly to be wise.
"I'm still trying to make sense of what I do remember, and it turns out my memory is poor."
Lan Zhan leveled him with a flat look that made him laugh; after all, he had boasted of his memory, and yet it had taken him most of their travels to remember where he had heard the song. He was still owed its title.
"I know. My memory has always been poor, like I have only one hazy memory of my parents and the donkey."
"Little Apple?"
Wei Wuxian smiled fondly at his zhiji; who else would make that sort of connection?
He'd planned at first to night hunt his way out of jianghu, never to return, and when he saw Little Apple it was such an odd convergence with the beginning of his last life, just seemed right to take her. Clearly her owner, who left her saddled and tethered on the street in the middle of the night, didn't appreciate her, and he liked to think he'd at least given her a more interesting life.
Though he hadn't managed to leave the jianghu, Wei Wuxian wasn't sorry. Lan Zhan leading while he rode Little Apple was a little like that snippet of memory, and many times their quest he was struck by the odd parallels, wondering what they meant, but he'd figured it out finally—for all his loss of family, he had Lan Zhan.
"I have holes in my memories of my last life, it seems, and it got worse especially toward the end—Nightless City but not how I got back to the Burial Mounds, and very little of the months before the Siege."
Lan Zhan's focus on him sharpened abruptly, and Wei Wuxian distracted himself from his nerves by pouring them both tea, the medicinal blend bitter but in line with the fare at the Cloud Recesses. He also poured dried seasoned mushrooms from the fresh bag the servants had left on the table for him.
"I returned you to the Burial Mounds," Lan Zhan said.
Wei Wuxian nearly dropped the plate, startled by the admission, and he could do little more than stare at him. The memory of the scars on his back, discovered not long after his return, rose unbidden, and he felt ill at the knowledge that this was likely the reason for them. And then he'd gone and died despite Lan Zhan's efforts, leaving him to heal from what had looked like an obscene number of lashes while grieving.
Likely it was more complicated; surely Lan Qiren wouldn't have him whipped so viciously for so little. But Wei Wuxian wouldn't ask, knowing he would share the details if he wished, partly because he was afraid to know. He wanted to say Lan Zhan shouldn't have, but he knew that would belittle his sacrifice, even if he felt strongly that he hadn't been worth it.
He'd known he was headed inexorably toward death, and he hadn't meant to drag someone as bright as Lan Zhan with him into the dark. He'd tried to push him away so he wouldn't be caught up in the fallout, but he was too good, would never abandon him willingly.
"I'm sorry, I don't remember," he said finally, tracing the rim of his teacup with one finger.
"No apologies or thank yous between us," Lan Zhan reminded him.
They had agreed to that before Wei Wuxian knew how much he had hurt Lan Zhan, how much he needed to make up for. He remembered telling Jin Ling that someday he would wind up saying both through tears, then remembering Wen Qing's final words to him as he lay paralyzed in the Burial Mounds.
"I thought you wanted me to go with you to Gusu for punishment," he said heavily, an apology. "I wasn't really thinking rationally."
A part of him had thought he deserved it, for daring to manipulate resentful energy, for daring to survive the Burial Mounds no matter what the cost. Mostly he had just expected censure from the jianghu, and hadn't figured on surviving the war; waking up several days after the final battle had been a somewhat unwelcome surprise, and Lan Zhan's entrance and insistence on trying to help him by playing the guqin, regardless of how fruitless it was, had been a welcome, if bittersweet, distraction.
"I know you wanted to help, now, but while everything was happening…"
Wei Wuxian sighed, not sure how to broach the subject even after time thinking about it, and he delayed further by taking a sip of the ridiculously bitter medicinal tea, unable to keep himself from pulling a face at the taste.
"I couldn't be your equal anymore, like fate without destiny," he finally said.
He knew Lan Zhan would understand the romantic undertones of the phrase, though he felt like a coward for confessing in such a roundabout way, and moreso because he didn't dare to look at him, particularly when Lan Zhan's breath caught briefly.
"We have the destiny to meet across a thousand miles," Lan Zhan murmured after a long moment, his voice rough, "and beyond death."
The rejoinder, using another proverb about love, made Wei Wuxian look up, and the way Lan Zhan looked at him, the obvious love, pulled at his heart and undammed his mouth, bringing everything out in a rush.
"Lan Zhan, I have a poor memory, and I didn't understand how I felt back then. You're really great. I like you, or in other words, I fancy you, I love you, I want you, I can't leave you, I whatever you. I want to night-hunt with you for the rest of my life. I don't want anyone but you—it can't be anyone but you—"
Wei Wuxian wasn't able to let out another sound, as Lan Zhan pushed the table aside and embraced him tightly, pulling him to his feet and silencing him with his lips and tongue. Though he had always been a little weirded out by the idea of another person's tongue in his mouth, with Lan Zhan he thought perhaps this was what he had craved all his life.
Breathlessly between lingering kisses, Lan Zhan repeated his words, and he could feel the intense beat of his heart, his own throbbing in his chest as well.
"I didn't know," Wei Wuxian said, letting a note of apology slip into his voice before he was silenced again by a more insistent kiss, Lan Zhan's teeth biting his lip, surprising him with how good that felt.
Normally he would have felt trapped, pushed with his back against the wall, the heat of Lan Zhan's body pressed along the front of him in a delicious counterbalance to the cool stone, but instead he felt almost absurdly safe. Lan Zhan tasted better than the finest wine—even Emperor's Smile couldn't hold a candle. He couldn't wait to taste more of him.
"Ah, you stole my first kiss," he panted when they broke for breath. "Take accountability."
"Gladly," Lan Zhan huffed, claiming his lips again and shifting against him in a way that pushed something hot and unmistakable against his belly, large enough to feel clearly through all the layers of robes, and his own cock jolted in response.
He had thought Nie Huaisang's porn had been overestimating, but instead Lan Zhan was even more well-endowed than the artist had assumed.
"You're so big—how is that supposed to fit?" he gasped as Lan Zhan moved to suck on his neck, leaving his mouth free, and the comment was clearly well-received. "Ah, how is it getting bigger?! Lan Zha—"
Lan Zhan swallowed any further words, though Wei Wuxian happily made other use of his tongue and kept up a litany of filthy comments whenever his mouth was free, enjoying the way it made him even harder.
They didn't make it to the bed, yanking each other's clothing half off, desperately rutting in the friction of their robes, eventually both of them in Lan Zhan's hand, making a mess of each other in the best way.
When his knees went weak in the aftermath of his orgasm, Lan Zhan carried him to the bed and worked to rid them of their clothes. He looked like carved jade, his skin smooth and glistening with sweat from their exertions, though Wei Wuxian knew if he turned the whip scars would be visible.
The Wen brand on his chest, in the exact location his had been in his first life, engulfed his attention, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching forward to trace the shape with his finger.
"Is this related to me, too?" he couldn't help but ask, acutely aware that the other scars Lan Zhan bore were on his behalf.
"Nothing. I was drunk," Lan Zhan responded after a moment of silence, and then surged forward, pushing him back on the bed and caging his body with his own.
Wei Wuxian was suitably distracted when he learned Lan Zhan didn't know about the use of oil, and quickly educated him, both verbally and demonstrably, leaving both of them panting with arousal. Wei Wuxian couldn't help but laugh.
"Lan Zhan, what would your uncle think, doing this without being married! He'd surely drown you in a pig cage!"
"I have considered us wed since the Cold Spring cave," Lan Zhan replied.
Wei Wuxian's brain took a moment to catch up, overwhelmed by sensation.
The headband… Lan Yi… and the bow.
Of course he'd accidentally eloped with Lan Zhan back then, the most important moment in his life unknown to him. And so when he'd said Lan Zhan looked as though he was mourning a wife… it hadn't been far off from the truth. Not that they'd ever consummated the marriage back then.
"We could've been doing this when we were fifteen?" Wei Wuxian squawked, outraged that so much time was wasted. "Ah, we should do this every day."
Wei Wuxian couldn't help but tease him about when he first wanted to fuck him, making a game of listing the different times they could have been doing this during the lectures and beyond.
Wei Wuxian came back to himself when Lan Zhan lifted him from the bed and the warmth of the bath water enveloped him. He had to thank Nie Huaisang for his forethought, the warmth easing muscles that were unused to exertion but would surely build quickly.
They bathed languidly and then were again unable to resist each other.
Lan Zhan, ever the gentleman, dried him with a strange sort of reverence, though perhaps not so strange if Wei Wuxian considered how long it had taken them to get here, two lifetimes, and then settled him at the table with a fresh pot of tea while he stripped the soiled bedding.
He thought it a waste, as they'd just soil them again later, but when Lan Zhan carried him to the bed he was happy they were fresh and soft against his skin. It was an entirely different sort of pleasure to sprawl with him naked across the bed, skin to skin in a different form of intimacy. Lan Zhan let him doze, simply holding him, and his nap was blessedly peaceful, as though his zhiji was a talisman against nightmares.
Later, when they eventually left the room for a much-needed dinner, they found a silencing talisman affixed to the door, a stack of them tucked into a parcel on the floor, a not-so-subtle message that made Lan Zhan's ears turn red.
Surely a coincidence, none of the juniors, Nie or Lan, could look at them in the dining hall. Poor Lan Jingyi's face was so flushed he looked like he'd been dunked in rouge, and Wei Wuxian amused himself talking to the teen, finding it fun to fluster him by just reminding him of his presence.
Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, looked ridiculously smug and he didn't bother to hide it behind a fan.
Wei Wuxian had to concede he was very much entitled.
The phrase "fate without destiny" is often used when breaking up or ending a relationship, so Wei
Wuxian is confessing he no longer felt he could be beside Lan Wangji. The first part of Lan Wangji's response is also a proverb, though the last bit is added because he wants to make it clear his feelings have not lessened.
This is the end of this fic, but not the series. I'm not sure when I'll start the next installment, as I'm participating in the WangXian Winter Solstice Gift Exchange again, and I have all the other in-progress fics to work on as well.
Writing has been slow lately. I've been put on a biologic injection for my autoimmune disease, and it's helping but the help is painful right now. My brain is often really foggy, so I've been doing loom knitting when I can't do anything else. I have a rheumatologist now and am being tested to find out if I have other coexisting autoimmune issues.
Personal life has also been pretty chaotic, which is also slowing my recovery. The sheer amount of drama my family can generate is a little amazing.
So mostly I've been writing when participating in Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday on Tumblr, slowly and deliberately, then fleshing out that when I'm able.
Thank you for your continued patience, and thank you adrian_kres for the beta!
This is a censored version of what is on AO3.