Kiusata



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    “You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”

    “Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”

    Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.

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    22 Feb 2024

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    Wangji risks a glance across the aisle; Wei Ying’s gaze is tilted down to his book, a model of diligence. But he’s smiling as he writes, and when his eyes flick over to Wangji’s, just for a second, they’re alight with something beautiful.

    This is love, Wangji realizes, right then. This is what it feels like. It's happening afresh even as it dawns on him.

    He copies the next line wrong, and the next.

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    22 Feb 2024

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    When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.

     

    [Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]

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    22 Feb 2024

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    Wei Wuxian chuckles and starts pushing Lan Wangji's outer robes off his shoulders. "Poor Lan Zhan, subject to such earthly miseries. You must be exhausted, come to bed, come to bed."

    "Mm," Lan Wangji says. He raises his arms so that Wei Wuxian can keep undressing him. His clothes will end up on the floor, but no matter. Wei Wuxian's deft hands at his belts are worth wrinkled robes.

    "... Goodness, Hanguang-Jun, you wear too many damned layers," Wei Wuxian tells him after a while. "Would it kill you to stop after a reasonable five?"

    --

    Wei Wuxian moves into the Jingshi. They sleep together.

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    16 Feb 2024

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    Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.

    The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.

    Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.

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    Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.

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    11 Jan 2024