Today I’m Thinking About…

…well, it started as me thinking about Yanshen first kisses, but then I got distracted by, ahem, more explicit Yanshen.

Like…

(actually, wait - I can already tell I’m about to Really Write This, and so we’re calling this another May Trope Mayhem fill - Day 11, There’s Only One Bed!!)

Fandom: Thousand Autumns

Ship: Yan Wushi/Shen Qiao

Rating: EXPLICIT!

Tags: Canon divergent, mildly dubious consent, Yan Wushi is always an unreliable narrator

(read more)

Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao have, inadvertently, taken a tumble into a river together. No harm done - they can both handle that kind of thing - but they doget soaked to the skin, and it’s late, so definitely too cold for them to linger in wet things. They’re too far from civilization to find someplace warm to stay, and it’s too important for them to pass through this area in secret (for Reasons, okay?) for them to risk using their spiritual energies in the name of something so meaningless as comfort. So instead, they strip, access whose clothing and undergarments are the least wet, and go from there.

From the moment their clothes come off, Yan Wushi is surprised by how…distracted…he is? Like, he’s been around Shen Qiao for years now, in all states of consciousness, injured and hale, and Shen Qiao has always been beautiful. Everyone comments on it (at least until Yan Wushi glares death incarnate at them and they stop). Now, though, with no one else around, and no one to voice their appreciation, it’s loud in his mind that Shen Qiao is gorgeous. Yan Wushi can, and always has been able to, have whoever he wants, and he’s self-aware enough to know he’s wanted Shen Qiao for a while, but this is different. Mostly, he thinks, because he’d long believed he hadShen Qiao in the only way he wantedShen Qiao - had his attention, his devotion, his companionship, had him thoroughly and completely duped into the belief that Yan Wushi was a person worthy of Shen Qiao’s attention. It was enough that Shen Qiao somehow didn’t recognize Yan Wushi for the villain he was, enough that his rival walked at his side.

Except, now, it isn’t enough, because, nude and pale from the chill air, Shen Qiao is spectacular, mesmerizing, and unashamed. His lithe body is lean, his limbs powerful, his movements fluid, his steps confident, and it’s all Yan Wushi can do not to stare. It’s especially frustrating because Shen Qiao seems in no way similarly distracted. Yan Wushi knows himself impressive - broad shouldered, muscular, scars in all the sexiest places, hung like fuck - but Shen Qiao hardly even looks at him, instead occupying himself with laying out sopping clothing to dry and arranging what’s passable into the semblance of a bed.

One bed.

Because there are only two dry layers - not enough to clothe themselves, not enough to lay out two places to sleep.

“It’s not ideal,” Shen Qiao says apologetically, “but we can make it work!” And he lies down on the thin layer he’s placed to shield them from the ground, and draws the driest robe over himself.

For a single wild, serious moment, Yan Wushi seriously considers finding someplace else to sleep. Maybe on the rocks mid-stream. The cold water will at least keep him from betraying the temptation he feels.

(And why is he worried about betraying that temptation? He could just take what he wants, right? What doeshe want? He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to think about Shen Qiao, except–)_

–except that Shen Qiao is shivering, small sounds leaking from him apparently involuntarily, and Yan Wushi heaves a frustrated sigh. He can’t just let Shen Qiao lie there and freeze to death. He’s put in too much effort too many times to protect him. So, glowering, he stalks across the clearing where they’ve set up their meager camp, pulls the blanket off Shen Qiao only enough to lie at his side, and draws the covers back over them both.

He lies on his back.

He stares up at the stars.

He wishes a fire wouldn’t give away their position, but all the wood here is wet, and smoke will be fatal to their attempts at stealth.

He can feel Shen Qiao’s heat radiating beside him, feel him shivering, even hear his teeth chattering.

He still doesn’t know precisely but he wants, but he does know he wants to roll on his side, hold Shen Qiao close, warm Shen Qiao in whatever ways Shen Qiao will permit him to do so - mostly chaste ones, if he’s honest with himself (which he rarely is).

Instead, he forces himself to stillness, lets his arm lay against the clammy skin of Shen Qiao’s back, does what little he can to help without risking losing all self-control…and eventually falls asleep, because yeah, inedia is great, but after fighting out of the river, they need actual rest.

When he wakes up, he’s lying on his side, one arm near-frozen where it’s escaped from the blankets, a sharp contrast to the heat enveloping his back.

Because Shen Qiao has apparently also moved…and, in moving, has curled around Yan Wushi, his chin on Yan Wushi’s shoulder, his chest pressed to Yan Wushi’s back, one leg pressed between Yan Wushi’s knee…

…his erection pressed against Yan Wushi’s ass…

…and Yan Wushi can only swallow, only try to shudder a space between them, because fuck, this is the exact opposite of the problem he’d expected. Yan Wushi was supposed to accidentally embrace Shen Qiao. Yan Wushi was supposed to inadvertently wake up with his cock pressed to the seam of Shen Qiao’s shapely ass cheeks. Fear of thatis what led him to sleep on his back. That the opposite had even the faintest chance of occurring had never once crossed his mind.

“Sorry,” Shen Qiao mumbles, voice sleep-slurred and so damn close to Yan Wushi’s ear.

“For what?” counters Yan Wushi. It’s not what he should have said - he should have pretend affront, should have rolled away, should have rebuked, should have teased - but it’s all that he can manage, because his question of the previous night has finally found an answer.

What do I want?

Yes, I want Shen Qiao, but more than that - I want Shen Qiao to want me.

And he does.

Yan Wushi has no idea what to do with this information.

“I, um.” Shen Qiao shifts back; the blanket-robe shifts and he shudders then slams their bodies back together. Yan Wushi can only assume that he accidentally exposed his back to the cold. It’s hard to say for sure when he’s got hard cock jabbing him in the thigh, his own manhood reacting quickly to grow equally hot and thick, his thoughts quickly spiraling toward “sex? please? now? with Shen Qiao!”

“This never happens to me,” Shen Qiao manages, sounding equal parts apologetic and miserable. The tone is like a new splash of cold water dousing Yan Wushi. So, it’s not that Shen Qiao wants him, it’s that– “You’re just so…so hot…” The last word bursts from Shen Qiao like a groan, the multiple meaning of the word patent, and Yan Wushi’s brain derails.

Because it isthat Shen Qiao wants him.

Fuck, but that’s amazing.

No - that can’t be right. Why wouldn’t he have said so before? I might fuck around, but Shen Qiao is honest to a fault. If he was interested, surely I’d know. And I know no such thing. It’s still not about me.But, just because it’s not about me doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with it - with him.

A deep chuckle forces out of Yan Wushi as he rolls bringing them chest to chest, cock to cock. He opens his eyes for the first time that morning to find Shen Qiao staring at him, gaze clear, eyes wide, expression shocked, cheeks flushed. Long black hair frames his shapely contours, tangles on the rocks they’ve used as pillows. Without waiting for him to say more (what if he said no?) Yan Wushi reaches between them and wraps his large, calloused hand around Shen Qiao’s shaft. A full-body shudder has Shen Qiao writhing against the ground, has huffing, half-vocalized breaths stuttering from his parted lips.

“Is this what you’re apologizing for?” Yan Wushi intends to taunt Shen Qiao, still a fool after all this time, still so easily brought under Yan Wushi’s sway, but to himself he can’t deny that he almost sounds…hopeful? Well, hopefully Shen Qiao doesn’t interpret his words that way. He’ll know when Shen Qiao answers…

…except Shen Qiao answers with a fervent nod, hips thrusting awkwardly to drag his cock through Yan Wushi’s fist, and no, that actually answers exactly zero questions.

Because it’s almost like Shen Qiao…actually wants this.

It’s almost like Shen Qiao…actually wants him.

Not a morning accident. Not a standard response to two warm bodies in proximity. Not the result of a dream.

“A-Yan…” whimpers Shen Qiao. “A-Yan, please…”

And Yan Wushi’s brain breaks.

Whenwas the last time Shen Qiao called him that?

Whenwas the last time he actually dared hope that Shen Qiao might want him?

Whenwas the last time Yan Wushi wanted anything, anyone, more than he wanted this man before him now, in his arms, in his bed, in his hands, moaning and pleading for him and only him?

Yan Wushi can hardly remember. It’s all blurred together with his near-death, his qi deviation, his self-reconsolidation into a single persona, his memories of Shen Qiao speaking, soft and kind, to him, but not to him.

“Do you want me, A-Qiao?” he asks, far less assured, far more hesitant, than he’d ever want to sound.

“Mn,” Shen Qiao agrees, nodding fervently, thrusting into Yan Wushi’s grip with every nod. “Do…have…should have…shouldn’t have slept with you…shouldn’t have–”

“Shouldn’t have kept it a secret,” whispers Yan Wushi, leaning to breath the words into Shen Qiao’s ear, relishing Shen Qiao’s trembling, gasping answer. “But now that I know…”

Shen Qiao thrusts, thrusts, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted around fevered, desperate inhales.

“…what?” asks Shen Qiao, and Yan Wushi is so enraptured watching him he can hardly figure out what Shen Qiao is asking him. “Now that you know…what, A-Yan? What will you do?”

“What will I do?” Yan Wushi smirks, tightens his grip around Shen Qiao’s cock, and begins to stroke in earnest. A desperate, shattered moan escapes Shen Qiao, and Yan Wushi’s body thrums with arousal, desire, heat, need, want. “I’ll make you come, Shen Qiao.”

“Oh…oh…!”

Yan Wushi truly had no idea that Shen Qiao felt this way.

But now that he knows?

“Oh, A-Qiao…”

Oh, they are going to have somuch fun together.

I posted this in the Discord live chat while I was watching on Sunday but no one engaged so I think no one knew both fandoms so I’m trying again here where I have a wider audience.

Sha Hai + Wheel of Time

Li Cu = Rand

Su Wan = Mat

Hao-ge = Perrin

Anyone? Anyoneeeeee? Discuss!

Wow this right here is some batshit snake oil

Ya know, there are times when I expect to be “the first” at something on AO3. Esp, like, when I write for super random rare pairs? Being the first to use a tag seems pretty normal. You know what I did NOT expect?

That my fic would be only the 4th posted to The Fourteenth Year of Chenghua, and that it’s the first and literally only one that isn’t ALSO tagged TSOMD. This is the ONLY book-only fic on the entire platform.

w.

t.

f.

Today I’m Thinking About…

…Sui Zhou and Tang Fan’s first kiss.

I’m a bit of a slow reader, but I’ve been plugging away at The Fourteenth Year of Chenghua since, like, March, and I’m in the low chapter 80s now, and the slow burn is getting more and more brutal now that Sui Zhou definitely definitelyrecognizes that he is hopelessly in love and Tang Fan is still a clueless dumbass solidly in “I always feel so happy when Sui Zhou is around I wonder what’s up with that” and it’s killing me.

(eta: Okay, I’m going to pretend this was intentionallywritten as a fill for today’s May Trope Mayhem, which is The Grumpy One is Soft for the Sunshine one. I…didn’t actually plan it to be that…but then it go long and fuck it, might as well make it count…) @duckprintspress

So I was just thinking, like…

Tang Fan has been working a case, and he was in danger, and Sui Zhou has justheard that Tang Fan needs rescuing…when Tang Fan walks in the front door of Sui Zhou’s house. The panic instantly switches to relief, then to annoyance when Tang Fan looks at Sui Zhou like he cannot fathomwhy Sui Zhou was freaking out.

“It’s no big deal,” Tang Fan laughs it off. “I’m totally fine! You’re over reacting.”

“I am NOT,” Sui Zhou replies, the mess of emotions making is voice loud as he slams a hand against the door behind Tang Fan, trapping Tang Fan in place. (kabedon!) “Ido not over-react. Youunder-react. I know you, Runqing. I know you wouldn’t tell me even if you’d been in mortal danger. Tell me, truly, how serious was it?”

And Tang Fan opens his mouth to answer with a light-hearted jibe only to find he can do nothing but swallow the words, because Sui Zhou is staring at him so intensely, his eyes so bright and dark and gorgeous, his expression so fixed and serious. His heart starts racing worse than it had when he (definitely hadn’t been!) in peril, and he can’t imagine why.

“I can’t…” Sui Zhou catches his lip between his teeth, manages a slow blink in a clear effort to calm himself down, takes a deep breath, and continues, “Just promise me that next time, you’ll ask for help if you need it.”

“I always ask for help when I thinkI need it,” lies Tang Fan blithely. Why does Sui Zhou care so much, anyway? Why do I like that he cares so much? “But it’s not like I can predict ahead of time when things will go sideways. Not that anything went sideways this time! Really, it’s no big deal. You know the job I do, just like I know the job you do. Danger’s part of the deal. You don’t need to–”

“You don’t need to go looking for it,” interrupts Sui Zhou. He knows he sounds harsher than he wants to. He knows he’s acting inappropriately. He’s still got Tang Fan pinned against the door, still has their faces barely a hand’s width apart, still can feel his heart in his throat, still wants…still needs…he tries another slow blink, but it gets him absolutely fucking no where. There’s such a cacophony of wordsin his head, Don’t you understand, Runqing? I need you. I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I can’t - I can’t - I can’t– but there was no speaking a one of them aloud. Tang Fan doesn’t look at him that way. Sui Zhou knows that. He does. And–

“Why do you care so much?” whispers Tang Fan, and Sui Zhou’s blood goes to ice. One touch, one word, even the faintest quirk of a smile on Tang Fan’s achingly kissable lips, and Sui Zhou is going to shatter.

How can he possibleanswer that question?

Andwhyis Sui Zhou choosing nowto be silent? Tang Fan cycles rapidly through potential reactions - should he laugh it off? Brush Sui Zhou’s arm aside (as if he coulddo that, unless Sui Zhou lets him, and oh, thinking about how strong that arm just over his shoulder truly is shouldn’t be so tempting)? Duck and run away? Open the door so they both tumble into the street beyond and return to his own home next door? Call for Dong-er?

Yet, to his amazement, before Tang Fan can finish planning and implementing an escape plan. Sui Zhou actually speaks.

“How…” Hoarse with emotion, Sui Zhou pauses, licks his lips - which is far, farmore distracting than Tang Fan would ever have imagined - then continues. “…how do you not know, Runqing?”

Every instinct demands Tang Fan act like this is somehow a joke. He knows it’s not - he knows Sui Zhou better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself sometimes he thinks, and there is absolutely no way Sui Zhou would joke about something like this. Tang Fan wantsto know, but what if it’s not the answer he hopes for? (What answer does he hope for?) Tang Fan wants to guess, but what if he guesses wrong? (What would he guess, if he had to?) Tang Fan yearns,craves Sui Zhou’s presence, but most days even he’snot sure what that means, how is he supposed to know what that means? (No matter what Guangchuan says next, will Tang Fan even know how to answer it?)

He desperately prays that Sui Zhou will continue before Tang Fan has to formulate an answer…

…but Sui Zhou holds silent, trembling, battling inner demons as fiercely as he’s ever fought a cult member or foe. He must not, cannot, tell Tang Fan the truth. He’s already said more than he should have. He should move his arm, walk away, but every muscle feels locked, this brief moment stretching to an eternity. He can see no exit from this situation, not positive outcome. Whatever he says or doesn’t say, won’t Tang Fan be upset with him? Wouldn’t Sui Zhou be upset with Tang Fan, if their situations were reversed?

Fuck. No. Never. If somehow they swapped places, if somehow Tang Fan were on the verge of confessing the emotions Sui Zhou knows himself to cherish toward Tang Fan, knows Tang Fan to have no inkling of toward Sui Zhou…wouldn’t Sui Zhou give anything to hear Tang Fan say those words?

What if he’s waiting for me, right now, hoping I’ll speak?

“Guangchuang–”

“Runqing–”

“Oh, you first!”

“No - no, you continue.”

“Guangchuang…please…just talk to me.”

After this moment, they will never be able to go back to how they were before this.

Steeling himself as though about to face a line of dauntless enemies with their swords all drawn, Sui Zhou leans forward and breaths in Tang Fan’s ear, “I need you, Tang Fan.”

The words ruffle, hot and breezy, through Tang Fan’s hair. He has no idea what they mean. Sui Zhou is so close that Tang Fan can feel him trembling, feel his tension, feel his fear. Analyses like mathematical computations race through Tang Fan’s head - things he can say, ways Sui Zhou could react, hypothetical simulations of what might happen next, permutation upon permutation playing out over and over until Tang Fan is lost. He still has no idea what to say. For once in his whole damn life, he is speechless. But, he does know one thing with utmost certainty:

If Sui Zhou walks away - if Sui Zhou leaves him - he will break, crumble to his knees, sob his life away on the spot.

He doesn’t know what that means, what that emotion equals.

I need you, TangFan.

Hedoesknow what that means, what that emotion equals.

“I need you, too, Sui Zhou,” he whispers. A distressed, shuddery sound leaks from Sui Zhou; he shifts back, his warmth and musky, armory scent fading, and Tang Fan semi-unconsciously, semi-intentionally follows him, leaning forward, chasing him –

And then Sui Zhou crashes back into Tang Fan’s space, crashes their mouths together, rough lips brushing on soft ones, the arm that had him trapped against the door now curling around his shoulders, roughly pulling him close, disheveling his robes, tangling in his hair.

“Guangchuan,” and Tang Fan intendsto exclaim the name in shock, but Sui Zhou is too close, and Tang Fan’s body is too hot, and his thoughts are too muddled, and the word comes out as a groan dragged long and slow and sultry against Sui Zhou’s lips.

“Runqing,” Sui Zhou replies fervently, like a prayer, like a blessing. Tang Fan’s sweet taste lingers on his mouth and Sui Zhou craves more - he leans in to brush their lips together again, and again, sucking gently at Tang Fan’s lower lip as he draws away than dives in again to seize another kiss, another. I should stop. This is too much. He’s still trapped. I mustn’t–

And Tang Fan lifts an arm to encircle Sui Zhou’s neck, raises his other hand to cup Sui Zhou’s cheek and tug him into another kiss as if he senses the hesitation about to lead Sui Zhou to draw away, and arches his body to match the curve of Sui Zhou leaning over him.

“Oh…” breathes Sui Zhou. Oh, this is perfect…this is everything I’ve ever wanted…Tang Fan…my incredible, beloved Tong Fan… The words will never come, so Sui Zhou tries to explain them with his body language - with every whisper of lips on lips, with every caress of hand over lithe, robed body, with every press of hips and chests and thighs, with every reverent exhale and urgent inhale.

In Sui Zhou’s embrace, with their mouths joined, with their growing arousal impossible to conceal, Tang Fan’s mind has gone perfectly, wonderfully silent, one single truth singing in his head.

He finally, finallyhas figured out what the morass of conflicting feelings he’s experienced mean. They never were conflicting. They simply sang in a harmony Tang Fan had never heard before, one that was missing several instruments. Now that Sui Zhou is so close, now that they’re touching, sharing, feeling in tandem, the melody is complete and the meaning is so clear that Tang Fan can’t believehe didn’t realize it sooner. He’d always thought himself so perspicacious, yet somehow he never realized…

“I love you, Guangchuan.”

…what a full he’d been.

“Runqing,” says Sui Zhou reverently, trying to get closer, trying to hold him more closely, trying to make it clear to Tang Fan how cherished he is, to demonstrate exactly, precisely why he cares so much when Tang Fan stumbles into danger. “Runqing, Runqing, Runqing, Run–”

“Hey!” Dong-er’s voice, sharp and familiar, interrupts. They jump apart like they’ve been burned, Sui Zhou leaping a stride away, Tang Fan colliding with the door. “Are you two done yet? Cause I’m not gonna just cook this whole meal alone, you know!”

“Right, right,” mumbles Sui Zhou, adjusting certain…betraying…parts of his anatomy to be more concealed. Robes. Very good clothing items, Robes.

“Does that mean you expect meto cook?” Tang Fan asks with an air of innocence.

“No!” they both snap at him.

And, to the beautiful sound of Tang Fan’s laughter - to the gorgeous chorus of Sui Zhou and Tang Fan laughing together, of Dong-er acting like she’s seen precisely nothing unexpected or out of the ordinary, to the crackle of the fire and sizzle of meat in the pan - they walk toward the kitchen together.

No matter what happens after this - always, always together.

…

oops this got long. *sweat drop*

Anyway, yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about today.

Not Sui Zhou drinking so much vinegar that he sees Tang Fan with Tang Yu and gets jealous of the “happy couple.”

Ya know, Envoy Sui, if you want Tang Fan you’re gonna have to use honest-to-god words one of these days…

Today I’m Thinking About…

…I’ve been head-empty for a couple days, super busy and when I COULD think about writing, thinking about my surprise pinch-hit for the SHL RBB and my fic for the DMBJ Small/Med Ship exchange - I have ideas for both but nothing written, and couldn’t share regardless cause challenges.

BUT! Yesterday I did have a lot of fun thinking about my next May Trope Mayhem fill. Fuck knows when I’ll write it, but, with that in mind…

…today I’m thinking about a modern WangNingXian AU where all three are about the biggest fucking idiots on the planet.

Idiot 1:

Wei Wuxian: woe is me, I know LWJ is in love with Wen Ning. I will be oh-so-self-sacrificing and try to help my two dumb best friends be together.

Wei Wuxian texts Lan Wangji: there’s a carnival in town, you should invite Wen Ning!

Idiot 2:

Wen Ning: …why is Lan Wangji…texting ME? this is ridiculous, he’s in love with Wei Ying? Maybe Wei Ying’s not available? No, no, maybe Lan Wangji was just too nervous to ask him directly. I will do him a solid, since I know how much they care about each other, and make sure that the person Lan Wangji REALLY wants to see will be there.

Wen Ning texts Wei Wuxian: oh my god, oh my god, Lan Wangji invited me to the carnival I CANNOT BE ALONE WITH HIM what will we even talk about it’s absolutely ridiculous no you have to come, please please please?

Idiot 3:

Lan Wangji: …the only reason that Wei Wuxian would instruct me to invite Wen Qionglin is because he is utterly oblivious to how much Wen Qionglin adores him, and wants to be sure that they each have a nice evening. In the name of my feelings for both of them, I will do Wei Wuxian this favor.

Lan Wangji, showing up at the carnival to see them both there, Wen Ning looking shy, Wei Wuxian waving and grinning: *lwj.exe has ceased to function*

…and so it goes. :D