#the untamed ficlet

@hellokyochan​ requested:

The bed had at least been big, which was a consolation to Wei Wuxian when he realized there was only the one. Lan Zhan of course offered to sleep on the floor, but that was a waste of a perfectly good mattress. It’s only a couple of nights for a dumb professional conference, and when your company won’t pay for your hotel (seriously, screw Wen Enterprises), you make do with a roommate. And Lan Zhan’s an easy roommate: he’s neat, he doesn’t get drunk, he doesn’t hit on women and then drag them back to the hotel room and leave a condescending note on the door. He’s really the ideal partner for situations like this.

What Wei Wuxian hadn’t counted on, though he really thought he had exhausted every possibility, was the way Lan Zhan looks when he’s asleep.

It’s morning, rays of sunlight drifting over the bed, and Wei Wuxian is lying on his side, utterly fascinated. They’ve drifted closer in their sleep, Lan Zhan all of a sudden so near to him, and Wei Wuxian is marveling at the shape of his lips, the way his eyebrows have relaxed from their usual scowl. The soft noises he makes, half-asleep, a puff of breath and a murmur.

He’s gorgeous.

He’s handsome awake – anyone with working eyes can see that – but asleep, with his guard down, he’s the most beautiful thing Wei Wuxian has seen in years. His hair is a waterfall of shining black, illuminated with the sun’s rays, and his eyelashes are delicate splashes of the same dark water. His skin is pale with only a hint of rose. He’s like a painting. But he’s real, and he’s here and oh so defenseless. Wei Wuxian is overwhelmed by the desire to touch.

He lifts his hand and inches, slow, toward Lan Zhan’s chin. The heat radiates into his fingers. So close – two fingers just shy of the line of his jaw –

– and Lan Zhan stirs. Wei Wuxian snatches his hand back, clamps it tightly at his side. He should probably look away, too, but he can’t quite tear his eyes from Lan Zhan’s lips as they purse, then part – just barely part, as though dreaming of a kiss.

Bleary golden eyes open, then blink. His pupils grow, then shrink, trying to find focus.

“Wei… Ying?” he says. His brows narrow into a frown.

Damn, he’s been caught looking. Wei Wuxian gives his most innocent smile. “Hi.”

“Am I … dreaming?” Lan Zhan’s voice is hesitant and hoarse. It almost doesn’t sound like him. He still can’t quite focus on Wei Wuxian’s face. His confusion is almost pitiful-looking, and Wei Wuxian wants to laugh.

He almost says no, but a wicked idea flashes through him. “Yes,” he says, “this is a dream.”

He expects Lan Zhan to maybe say “oh,” and fall back asleep, or scowl and tell him he knows he’s awake, but that’s not what happens.

Instead, the corners of Lan Zhan’s mouth turn up, and he reaches out.

“Good dream,” he says, and pulls Wei Wuxian into his arms.

All of a sudden Wei Wuxian’s face is pressed into Lan Zhan’s shoulder and his heart is drumming wildly. He can’t even struggle. What is happening? Lan Zhan is … holding him?

Lan Zhan is holding him. In strong arms, warm arms, and Wei Wuxian’s brain is humming with so many possibilities all at once. Is Lan Zhan thinking he’s someone else? Does he just get hug-happy in his dreams? Does he think he’s having one of those weird dreams where you’re with someone you don’t like in real life?  Is he still really asleep?

Or does he really dream about Wei Wuxian?

“Lan Zhan,” he starts to say, but can Lan Zhan even hear him? His head is buried in Lan Zhan’s shoulder, and he’s being held too tightly to pull away. He really needs to struggle. He should struggle. He should find some damn willpower and pull himself out of Lan Zhan’s arms and pretend the whole thing was just a joke.

Then he feels the press of lips against his hair. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs. The low sound rumbles right into Wei Wuxian’s bones. God, even his bones are warm right now, all of him is warm and wanting, and his hands still itch to touch Lan Zhan’s skin.

“Lan Zhan,” he tries again, “Lan Zhan, wake up, this isn’t a dream…”

“My Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, a louder voice now, like he’s protecting Wei Wuxian against a horde of admirers, like he’s claiming his territory. His lips touch Wei Wuxian’s hairline. Now his temple. Now the patch of skin next to his ear. Lan Zhan’s hands are tight on his back, unyielding.

Lan Zhan whispers next to his ear. “Don’t wake me up.”

His breaths are glancing against Wei Wuxian’s face now, soft and warm, and Wei Wuxian has never in his life wanted to be kissed the way he wants Lan Zhan to kiss him now. His hands ball into fists, clutching the folds of Lan Zhan’s T-shirt, and he lifts his head, yearning.

“This is a dream?” Lan Zhan asks again, in a voice that says he’s coming to. He lowers his head so their foreheads touch, eyes only half-open. Wei Wuxian looks at him, looks at the inscrutable emotion in those half-lidded eyes, and all of his control melts into nothingness.

“Yes,” he whispers halfway to Lan Zhan’s lips, “you’re dreaming.”

Lan Zhan’s lips are achingly soft against his.

Lan Zhan is trembling, shoulders wracked with shudders, and Wei Wuxian can’t believe it. This is Lan Zhan? This is the man whose very existence is all about control? He’s shaking against Wei Wuxian’s hands, breathing short, and – and – and kissing him back, oh so slow and sweet, kisses like honey and champagne that make Wei Wuxian dizzy.

They kiss, and they stop and breathe, and they kiss again. Heat is curling in Wei Wuxian’s core, but it’s lazy heat, and he’s content to just feel it. One of Lan Zhan’s hands rises to touch his face, a gentle palm, and it’s grounding. The sureness of it. The steadiness of Lan Zhan that keeps them both in the dream.

And then, all at once, it’s over.

Lan Zhan pulls away, blinks twice. His eyes widen. He pulls backward on the bed, then bolts up to sit, one hand clapped over his mouth.

Wei Wuxian props himself up on one elbow. He’s still getting his bearings after being kissed half to death. “Ah, Lan Zhan,” he complains, wanting that warmth back.

Lan Zhan takes in the sight of him, lifts his eyes to where the sunlight is streaming in the window, looks away. He forces his hand down to his side. “I’m sorry,” he says, the words short and clipped.

“No, no, it was my fault,” Wei Wuxian says. “I told you you were dreaming.”

Lan Zhan is unmoving and unspeaking. There’s a rose tint at his ear, but his face is deathly pale.

Wei Wuxian sits up to meet him face-to-face. “Lan Zhan,” he says, suddenly gripped by shame for what he’s done, “please don’t worry about it. I was just having some fun. I won’t tell anyone.”

His answer is a shake of the head and a deeper flush on the shell of Lan Zhan’s ear. He’s really upset, and Wei Wuxian’s spitballing now, just trying to find the right words that will lift the anchor of awkwardness that’s holding them both down. “Look,” he says, “look, we’ll just pretend nothing happened. Like it never happened.”

More stony silence.

“Ummm…. help me out here, Lan Zhan, I’m running out of ideas.” Wei Wuxian throws up his hands. “Would it help if I said I liked it?”

Lan Zhan turns, abruptly, and stares at him with wide eyes.

A reaction, thank goodness! Wei Wuxian smiles, but it’s a shaky smile, and he can’t keep it steady. “You either like that idea or you really hate it. Lan Zhan, please say something, because I’m not sure if you’re going to kiss me again or challenge me to a duel.”

“You…” When Lan Zhan speaks, it’s always poetry – straightforward, unwavering, truth. But he’s tripping over his own words now, like his tongue’s made of lead. Seeing him like this makes Wei Wuxian’s heart flutter in his throat. “You liked it?”

“Well, of course,” Wei Wuxian says. He knows he sounds carefree and light, but he feels the weight of the words as they come out. “I’m bi as hell, and you’re hot as hell, in what universe would I not enjoy kissing you?”

Lan Zhan keeps looking at him with that incredulous stare that might equally be horror and excitement. “You’d enjoy…?”

“Okay, Lan Zhan, I get that you’re still groggy or whatever, but get with the program here,” Wei Wuxian chides him. “Number one: you’re hot. Number two: I liked kissing you. You get to tell me what number three is.”

They’re sitting up in bed side by side and Lan Zhan is staring at him and Wei Wuxian is grinning because that’s his go-to expression when he has no idea what’s going on (which is right now), and Wei Wuxian is a little afraid they’re going to be frozen like this for a solid half-hour before either of them can think of anything else coherent to say.

Frozen, and then without a single breath of warning Lan Zhan’s hands are on his face and Lan Zhan’s lips are on his again.

This time it’s hot, and it’s possessive, and Wei Wuxian’s gasping against Lan Zhan’s mouth, breathless and wrecked. How long has Lan Zhan felt this way about him? The question flickers in his mind, then sputters out and all he can do is hang on for dear life as Lan Zhan kisses him deep and rough, like he’s been dying for it. Lan Zhan’s tongue strokes his and it’s all Wei Wuxian can do not to go up in flames right there.

Lan Zhan tries to shift, to push him down onto the bed, but Wei Wuxian breaks free, laughing, and resists. “Please, Lan Zhan. Let’s at least go on a date first. Okay?”

Lan Zhan tries to slow his breathing. “Okay.”  

Wei Wuxian smiles and darts in to peck him on the lips. “Let’s start with breakfast?” he says.

“Breakfast,” Lan Zhan echoes. He seems to be slowly pulling himself together. “Yes.”

They dress and head down the hall side by side toward the elevators. As they descend to the lobby, Lan Zhan slips his hand into Wei Wuxian’s. When Wei Wuxian looks at him, he sees soft eyes and the barest hint of a smile. His heart stutters.

Maybehe’s the one who’s dreaming.

Prompts 40 and 42 from this list! I’m still taking prompts, from this list or otherwise!

it’d be so easy to write this with the roles reversed, but I wanted to show an affectionate Lan Wangji, so here you have it.

Lan Wangji goes to bed at nine o'clock. He always has, and he thought for a long time he always would. He didn’t figure on a husband who stays up until all hours and laughs at the concept of routine. Not that Lan Wangji would have it any other way.

But tonight it’s late, very late, and Wei Ying has just lit another candle to keep him company as he works on his manuscripts. Lan Wangji is sleepy, his eyes a little bleary. He watches from the far side of the room as Wei Ying throws several pages to the side, pulls out another blank page, and begins writing earnestly on it.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wei Ying holds up one finger – wait one minute – and keeps writing.

Lan Wangji waits, but that one minute comes and goes. Wei Ying doesn’t look up. For another minute, Lan Wangji just watches. The candlelight flickers, casting Wei Ying’s face into bright planes and deep shadows. His profile, the soft bow of his lips, all golden on the edges, like burning paper. Lan Wangji is struck – again, for the thousandth time – by the fact that this beauty, this elusive creature of laughter and magic, lives in his room and sleeps in his bed. There are days he’s scared to touch Wei Ying for fear he’ll dissolve into thin air and disappear. Other days, Wei Ying seems like a bird who yearns for the sky; those days, Lan Wangji wants only to hold him close and keep him tethered to the ground lest he fly away. Tonight, he only wants that intense gaze to turn and see him waiting there.

He crosses the room. “Wei Ying. You should come to bed.”

“You’re in my light,” Wei Ying complains, though the candle burns on the desk below him.

Lan Wangji sits down behind him, then shifts just so, curling around him like  smoke. His hands alight on Wei Ying’s waist. “Come to bed,” he says, soft against Wei Ying’s ear.

“You’re being annoying,” Wei Ying murmurs, but he lets himself lean backward into Lan Wangji’s embrace, shoulders relaxing, head tipping back. He takes a breath. “I’ll come to bed when I’m ready.”

Lan Wangji presses his mouth to Wei Ying’s ear, nips the skin of his neck just below. “Come now.”

“Until the candle burns out,” Wei Ying protests, “give me that much time, just until the candle burns out.” But he isn’t looking back down at his pages; instead, he’s tilting his head, exposing the full line of his neck and the top of his shoulder. In the candlelight, his skin is dipped in gold.

Lan Wangji lifts a hand from Wei Ying’s waist and places it on his arm, stroking gently. He doesn’t say a thing. Wei Ying makes an effort to lean over the desk again, but Lan Wangji leans with him, breathing on his bare shoulder, feeling Wei Ying’s goosebumps ripple up under his fingers. He lowers his mouth to that shoulder and kisses it, flicking his tongue over Wei Ying’s skin to taste him.

Wei Ying takes in a sharp breath, lets it out in a shudder. “Lan Zhan,” he says, voice low in the quiet room. He cocks his head to the side, as though turning to face him. Lan Wangji kisses along the curve of his jaw. Wei Ying turns further. His mouth is just close enough, and Lan Wangji darts in to place a soft kiss on those gold-rose lips.

“You’re hopeless,” Wei Ying says, shaking his head, and turns fully into Lan Wangji’s embrace.

Wei Ying kisses him gently, one hand on his face, and Lan Wangji fully intends to keep it gentle. He clasps Wei Ying by the arms, a loose grip, but something about the hour and the light and the person is seeping into his senses and eroding his control. His hands tighten despite his best intentions, and he holds Wei Ying in place as he kisses him – decisively, hotly, a kiss that demands: be mine. Belong to me.

“Greedy,” Wei Ying grins against his mouth. He drops his pen – he’d still been clutching it – and wraps his hand around the nape of Lan Wangji’s neck. Ink is probably spilling from the pen onto the floorboards. The desk rattles as Wei Ying climbs into Lan Wangji’s lap. The candle flickers dangerously. But all Lan Wangji knows in that moment is Wei Ying – his heat, his scent, the shape of his body. The jingshi could be burning down and he wouldn’t care. Here in his arms is everything he wants.

He licks at Wei Ying’s lips, parts them. Wei Ying’s tongue meets his, eager. So thrilling, this sensation, every time, and Lan Wangji is vibrating with want, pulling Wei Ying closer with greedy hands. He can’t get enough. Wei Ying’s skin. His breath. His sweet, yielding lips.

Wei Ying tips his head back. Lan Wangji kisses his neck, wet presses of mouth to skin. Wei Ying shudders. A yes flies from his mouth, the word incandescent in the dim room, echoing in Lan Wangji’s ears. He kisses the hollow of Wei Ying’s throat, chasing more yeses. Wei Ying obliges, fingernails biting into Lan Wangji’s skin, drawing a groan from him.

“Come to bed,” he insists one more time, and stands, pulling Wei Ying up with him.

“All right,” Wei Ying whispers against his mouth. “You win.” He lets Lan Wangji lead him across the room and onto the bed.

Sometime in the middle of what comes next, the candle burns down and sputters out. Neither of them notices.

@notenoughgatorade prompted me with #33 from this list! I’m still taking prompts!

Set in CQL/TV The Untamed universe.

The urge is just too unbearable. And today is a ridiculously good day, the sky bright and the breeze crisp, and Wei Wuxian’s in a sunny mood. He’s about to run off with the juniors to Caiyi Town for lunch, leaving Lan Zhan to tend to his own matters for a while. Nothing he hasn’t done before, nothing he won’t do again. And the urge is nothing new, either. Lan Zhan stands at the screen door to see him off, and every time, Wei Wuxian feels the persistent and annoying need to peck him on the lips before he goes.

It’s just an odd urge that occurs to him once in a while. Who knows why.

And today his heart is humming and he feels like nothing can go wrong. So just as he’s saying his goodbyes, promising to be back before sundown and all, he suddenly darts in and presses a quick kiss to Lan Zhan’s mouth. “Behave,” he says. “I’m going now.”

And he walks casually out of the doorway and through the courtyard and away. Like nothing happened.

But now that he’s done it, his pulse is jumping and he’s terrified of the consequences. The moment he is out of Lan Zhan’s immediate line of sight, he ducks behind a tree and peeks back toward the jingshi.

Lan Zhan’s hand is on his mouth. His eyes are blown open wide. He’s standing stock still.

Oh, no. He’s made a huge mistake, hasn’t he?

Well, nothing for it now. He’ll just have to apologize when he gets back. He doubts Lan Zhan will kick him out or anything for the imposition – they’ve been living comfortably in the same building for a month since Wei Wuxian returned from his travels.

He goes to collect the juniors and set out for lunch and inevitable shenanigans. They’ll keep his mind off it.

–

It’s midafternoon when they return. Wei Wuxian has successfully distracted himself via spicy food and animated conversations among the juniors. He’s rather proud of Sizhui and Jingyi, who spent the majority of their walk back arguing over whether a talisman should include a certain stroke or not (Sizhui thought it was reckless; Jingyi said that’s the only way it’s effective). Others talked about the girls they saw in town; one shyly confessed to having a crush on one of the female disciples, and was roundly teased for it. All in all, Wei Wuxian was able to keep his mind off his reckless action this morning. Mostly.

That all fades the moment they passed through the gate to Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian is suddenly terribly nervous.

What will Lan Zhan say? he wonders. What will he do? Will I get a scolding? Or maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe he’s already forgotten all about it. That’s meant to be a comfort, but it isn’t – partly because Wei Wuxian doubts it’s true, and partly because a piece of him doesn’t want Lan Zhan to forget about it.

Which is odd, it was a mistake, Lan Zhan usually lets his mistakes go, why should Wei Wuxian want him to remember it?

He sneaks back behind the same tree where he hid before, peers through the brush at the jingshi.

Lan Zhan is still standing at the door. His hand is still on his mouth. It looks like he hasn’t moved a muscle the whole time Wei Wuxian was gone.

Looks like he hasn’t forgotten about it at all.

Wei Wuxian pauses in trepidation outside the gate to the courtyard and summons up all his cheerfulness, pasting a big smile on his face. Maybe he can talk his way out of this.

“Lan Zhan!” he calls with a big wave as he enters. “You missed a fun trip! I hope what you were doing wasn’t too boring, but who am I kidding, it was probably boring.” He saunters up the steps to the Jingshi. “It’s hard to believe how much A-Yuan has grown in the months I’ve been away. I’ve mentioned it before, but today–”

An arm blocks his way. Lan Zhan is blocking his access to the Jingshi. His jaw is clenched.

Shit.

Wei Wuxian summons up his boldness and puts a hand on that outstretched arm. “Lan Zhan. Don’t tell me you are still hung up on that little joke I played on you this morning. It was just for fun! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Lan Zhan lowers his arm slowly. His eyes narrow. “It was a joke?” he asks, as though he hadn’t even pondered the possibility.

“Well, what else could it be? No, you know what, don’t answer that question, it’s too embarrassing. Anyway, tell me about your afternoon–”

“Don’t do it,” Lan Zhan says, a trace of coldness in his voice, “if you don’t mean anything by it.”

There’s some implication there that Wei Wuxian is scared to examine. He saunters into the room and stretches, extending his arms as wide as he can. “That reminds me of something you told me a long time ago. In the cave. You were so upset about my flirting, do you remember? I said at the time you probably liked Mianmian. You got so angry.” Why is he still talking about this? He has the vague feeling he’s making things worse.

“I didn’t,” Lan Zhan says. “Like her.”

“It’s all ancient history anyway,” Wei Wuxian says, sitting down. “Who cares who you liked? We were kids. Do we have fresh tea? The spicy peppers are still sticking with me. I’m afraid I may have some bad breath. You probably don’t want to come near me.”

And Lan Zhan certainly doesn’t seem eager to come near. He’s still standing at the doorway, watching Wei Wuxian with some interest. “I’ll get tea,” he says, and descends down the steps and away.

With him goes an ominous atmosphere; the air feels visibly lighter when he’s out of the courtyard. Wei Wuxian sighs. What was that reaction about? Lan Zhan wasn’t angry; neither has he forgotten it. More than that, what about Wei Wuxian’s own reaction? Why does he care so much, anyway?

He leans back and folds his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

It was just this odd urge he felt once in a while. Now that he’s done it, that should be the end, right? But there’s something unresolved in all this. Something unsettling. Like this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, the last time.

That’s the issue, isn’t it? Wei Wuxian wants to do it again.

I want to kiss Lan Zhan.

He thinks the words methodically, one at a time, then tries them out loud. They sound less absurd than he’d expected. But he doesn’t have those tendencies, does he? Granted, if he did, Lan Zhan would definitely be the guy he’d go for. He’s handsome and genteel and, more than that, sweet and affectionate in the moments Wei Wuxian steals for himself, the ones no one else gets to see. There are times when he looks at Wei Wuxian and it makes him melt inside. Nobody else has ever looked at him like that.

Lan Zhan looks at him like that. Like he’s the only person in the world.

And Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him.

Oh.

The realization knocks the wind out of him. He has to remind himself to start breathing again.

It’s an eternity until Lan Zhan returns with the tea. He’s expressionless as he pours one cup for Wei Wuxian, one for himself, then sits neatly at the table across from him.

Wei Wuxian stares at him without saying a word. Now that he knows, he wants. The line of Lan Zhan’s jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the feel of him in the room. The curve of his hands around the teacup. Everything about him is staggeringly beautiful. Wei Wuxian has to wonder why it took himself so long to come to this epiphany. Who wouldn’t fall in love with this man? He’s everything anyone could ever want.

He’s everything Wei Wuxian wants. He always has been.

“Will you drink?” Lan Zhan asks, breaking the silence.

“Ah– of– of course.” Wei Wuxian forces a short laugh. “I got distracted.”

Even so, Lan Zhan doesn’t let him take more than a sip. “Wei Ying.”

“Y-yes.”

“Please … think of the consequences of your actions.” Lan Zhan’s brow is furrowed, and his gaze is downward, as though he’s unsure of what he’s saying.

Wei Wuxian sighs. “You say that, Lan Zhan, but how am I to know what those consequences are? A talking-to and then we get tea? I’m thinking if I did it tomorrow, that wouldn’t be your only response.” Lan Zhan’s eyes widen in sudden panic.

Wei Wuxian waves him down. “I won’t do it tomorrow, don’t worry.” He tries to keep the smile off his face, but it’s hard.

“Oh.” Lan Zhan’s gaze wavers. “Then there’s no need to discuss it.”

“I think there is a need,” Wei Wuxian says, and he scoots himself around the table to take a seat next to Lan Zhan. “I think you really need to make clear what the consequences are of doing it again. In fact, I think it’s so important, I’m willing to do it again just to find out.”

The panic returns to Lan Zhan’s eyes. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Wuxian leans forward. “Go on, then,” he says, “show me what my punishment is.” And he closes the gap between them and kisses Lan Zhan’s soft lips. A little longer this time. Just a second or two, then over, and Wei Wuxian smiles. “What are you going to do to me?”

Lan Zhan grabs the back of his head and pulls him back in.

–

It’s two hours later, and the sun is fast disappearing beyond the horizon. The rays shine slanted on the bed, and a golden sheen appears on Lan Zhan’s bare side. Wei Wuxian touches his skin with two fingers, strokes. Lan Zhan murmurs approval.

“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” Wei Wuxian wonders aloud.

“Many reasons.” Lan Zhan says, touching Wei Wuxian’s face with a gentle hand. “Mostly, I didn’t know how you felt.”

“That makes two of us,” Wei Wuxian says ruefully. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

“It’s fine.” Lan Zhan’s traces the shape of Wei Wuxian’s lips with a finger. Simple, light contact, but Wei Wuxian can’t resist trying to purse his lips and press kisses to that earnest fingertip. “Don’t say sorry.”

“Well, I have to say something.” Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment. “How about this?” And he whispers something soft and low that makes Lan Zhan look at him with those wonderful, shining eyes.

“And,” he adds, “I’m absolutely doing this again tomorrow. Now that I know the consequences.”

Lan Zhan kisses him. “Please do.”

or: in which Wei Wuxian, for once, doesn’t speak. Set in CQL verse, post-canon.

Lan Zhan is kissing him.

Lan Zhan is kissing him and Wei Wuxian is not sure exactly what is going on.

Lan Zhan is kissing him, lips warm on his, breath soft against his face, and Wei Wuxian is inhaling his scent and absorbing his body heat as Lan Zhan presses him against the wall of the Jingshi and please won’t somebody tell Wei Wuxian what is happening here.

Lan Zhan brought him back here after they reunited on that mountaintop, after months of corresponding by letter, and everything had been perfectly normal until this. Maybe not perfectly normal - when he’d heard Lan Zhan’s voice and then Lan Zhan was there, something deep as instinct moved him and and Wei Wuxian had thrown his arms around him, he couldn’t not. But a hug is totally different, a hug can mean a million things but a kiss only means one, at least a kiss the way Lan Zhan is kissing him only means one, but Wei Wuxian is too shocked to let himself think of what exactly that meaning is and can only concentrate on how did this happen?

They’d conversed all the way down the mountain and up to Cloud Recesses and it had been wonderful, friendly and meaningless, Wei Wuxian regaling him with tales of his travel and peppering him with questions about life as the Chief Cultivator, as though they hadn’t already written all of this to each other for months. And then they were home, the sect leader just out of isolation greeting him with a smile. A smile, but a face gaunt with the aftereffects of grief, Wei Wuxian had noticed, eyes that much dimmer for what they had seen. But that’s one thing and this is another, why is he thinking about Sect Leader Lan when Lan Zhan is cupping his face with one hand, palm brushing Wei Wuxian’s flushed skin, and he’s kissinghim Lan Zhan is kissinghim Wei Wuxian keeps coming back to that…

Lan Zhan is kissing him steadily, breathing soft against Wei Wuxian’s face, a kiss like he’s meditating. Like he’s memorizing the moment, at least, that’s what Wei Wuxian imagines he’s doing, but that would mean this means something, and Wei Wuxian’s not ready to figure out what that is yet.

They’d eaten some horrible Lan Clan dinner and then taken a walk by the waterfall before retiring here to the Jingshi. There was never a doubt that Wei Wuxian would stay there; he’d stayed there before, after all, and nobody questioned it when he’d put his possessions there (such as they are, limited to the contents of one lopsided cloth bag), nobody questioned as they returned. He’d sat down and pulled one half-empty jar of liquor from his bag, and Lan Zhan had sat across from him with tea, and they drank and talked and drank a little more and talked a little less, until they were just blinking at each other in the candlelight. Lan Zhan had gazed at him with that steady look of his.

The silence had been too much, that look had been too much, and Wei Wuxian had jumped to his feet, mumbling some nonsense about bathing before sleep. Lan Zhan had stood, said, “Wait,” and backed Wei Wuxian into the wall and kissed him.

And he’s stillkissing him.

It’s maybe only been ten seconds that Wei Wuxian has thought all of this, but it feels like it’s been minutes, every soft movement of Lan Zhan’s mouth on his has happened in slow motion. Every press and release, the silk-soft texture, Lan Zhan’s lips parting just slightly against his. Wei Wuxian tries to take stock of the situation. One of Lan Zhan’s hands is on his jaw, gently cupping his face and tilting his chin so their lips meet just so. The other hand is pinning his arm to the wall, fingers entangled with his. Lan Zhan’s breathing is coming a little short.

And Wei Wuxian’s own body is … responding. Sparks fly across his vision as Lan Zhan kisses him, and a shuddering wave of heat rolls through his body, slow and delicious. His fingers itch to reach out, to pull Lan Zhan closer. The only reason he doesn’t is because he’s still not sure what’s going on here, and it seems wise to assess the situation before taking action.

Why is Lan Zhan doing this? Is it just that he missed him over these months? Is it some sort of extended welcome-back? But that doesn’t seem right. It can’t be that Lan Zhan likes him, like that, could it? Why didn’t he do anything before now, if that was the case? Certainly a Lan Zhan who liked him would have asked him to stay, all those months ago. Certainly he would have told him.

Because Lan Zhan so often asks for things for himself and so often talks about how he’s feeling? his mind reminds him. What kind of alternate Lan Zhan are you thinking about?

But it can’t be. It can’t, because that would make Wei Wuxian so wildly happy, and he doesn’t get to feel that kind of happiness, usually. It’s so far outside the realm of Wei Wuxian’s experience, and he wants it so badly that he knows it can never happen.

Lan Zhan purses his lips once more and then breaks the kiss, retreating just a few inches so they are face-to-face. It will be just a moment before he realizes his mistake, Wei Wuxian thinks, and then everything will go back to normal. He will be able to breathe easier. But just thinking of it, his heart plummets.

He’s not saying anything. He’s just breathing, looking at Wei Wuxian, in the sort of way that he did before. A soft blink, like a cat’s, and then that unyielding gaze. He’s beautiful, pale skin like a fresh snowfall, eyes clear and shining. Those eyes are telling him something, Wei Wuxian realizes. He gazes back, trying to interpret that message.

What he sees makes him want to cry.

He smiles instead, a slow grin spreading over his face. His breath comes out in a rush, a huff that’s almost laughter. So it’s true then. And what’s more, it’s always been there. How did he not see it before? It’s been in every glance Lan Zhan has ever given him, from the moment he came back to life – no, before that, even. That spark has always been in Lan Zhan’s eyes, and Wei Wuxian never opened his own eyes wide enough to see it.

Lan Zhan takes a breath, opens his lips as if to speak. Wei Wuxian doesn’t let him.

He surges forward and captures those lips again.

His heart is flying and his body is warm all the way through as he cups Lan Zhan’s face in both hands, pulls him close. They kiss and kiss, Lan Zhan’s hands coming down to wrap around his waist, his mouth parting eagerly under Wei Wuxian’s. Wei Wuxian licks into his mouth, bold, and he feels Lan Zhan shudder. Gods, yes, he thinks wildly, amidst the heat and the closeness and the fragmented sound of Lan Zhan’s breathing. At last, at last, at last.

Lan Zhan tugs him in closer, wrapping his arms snugly around him, his hands spread-fingered on Wei Wuxian’s back. He makes a small sound, like a growl, and then his tongue is pressing against Wei Wuxian’s, licking hungrily as he bends Wei Wuxian back at the waist, as though he’s going to lower him down to the floor. Dimly, Wei Wuxian realizes that he’s unleashed something that’s been caged for years, and wild excitement floods him. Lan Zhan thought about him in this way all this time. Since he came back. Maybe earlier than that. Wei Wuxian wants to know when it started. He wants to know why Lan Zhan’s been silent all this time. Oh, there are so many questions he wants to ask.

But not now. Now is for the feelings that can’t be expressed in words, for the love that has just now found its home. His eyes flutter closed, and he surrenders himself to emotion and sensation. For once, the words can wait.