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Three months after Wei Wuxian returns to Lan Wangji after his year of wandering, he tags along to a cultivation conference in Lanling. It’s not such an ordeal now that he’s no longer expected to attend or contribute to the conferences himself. It also means he can see his favorite nephew and…maybe even his brother. Besides, the clan leaders stress Lan Wangji out and if he’s here, too, he can provide comfort for Lan Wangji (with his body) at the end of each day. Wei Wuxian grins to himself and whistles as he makes his way up the Carp Tower stairs after spending the morning wandering around in town.
It’s nearly time for lunch, perhaps he’ll sneak into the hall and see if he can convince Lan Wangji to slip away with him instead of staying to eat with the others. He eats in silence anyway, why should it matter where he is while he eats it?
When he reaches the top, he can hear voices floating out on the breeze, and they sound irritated, so they haven’t stopped for a break yet. Wei Wuxian finds a clear spot on a low wall looking out over the land sprawling away from the tower and he sits down. He considers going back to the room where he and Lan Wangji are staying to retrieve Chenqing so he can play a little while he waits, but he’s tired and hot from the journey up all those stairs. He still forgets sometimes that the golden core he has now is hardly a shadow of the core he once had and he just can’t do the things he used to be able to. It can be frustrating, but he’s started to learn his limits and where he can push himself.
Right now he doesn’t have to though, so he might as well rest. That way he’ll be in top form for Lan Wangji.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
Wei Wuxian opens his eyes and tips his head to the side to look back over his shoulder to where the voice is coming from. A Jin clan guard is frowning at him, hands set imperiously on his hips. “Having a break,” he replies, gesturing down at the long stretch of stairs.
“You can’t be here,” the guard says and it occurs to Wei Wuxian that he’s wearing some of his more worn travel robes because he’d wanted to walk into town and he wasn’t about to do it wearing the exquisite robes Lan Wangji had gifted him. He probably doesn’t look like much right now, and certainly not like he belongs here with no sword at his hip.
“Aiya,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “I just wanted to peek in and have a look at the chief cultivator. I heard he’s the most beautiful man for thousands of miles.”
The guard snorts. “Come with me.”
Wei Wuxian doesn’t resist when the guard grips his arm and pulls him to his feet. Instead, he bites back a grin, imagining Lan Wangji’s face, imagining his nephew’s face when they find out.
He expects to be led to the dungeon, which is not exactly how he planned to spend the afternoon, but then the guard pushes him between two soaring columns into a shaded nook, driving him backward until his back hits the wall of Carp Tower itself.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson about staying where you belong,” he says, the little mustache on his upper lip going crooked as he smirks at Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian laughs despite himself. “Oh, please. I am ready to learn.” This idiot has no idea what he’s gotten himself into and Wei Wuxian can’t decide who he wants to tell the story to first.
It takes him by surprise when the guard steps forward abruptly and presses his elbow across Wei Wuxian’s chest, shoving him back into the wall. Wei Wuxian laughs again, more disbelieving this time. The shamelessness.
Then the man shoves his knee between Wei Wuxian’s thighs and Wei Wuxian’s smile drops into a frown. He’d thought this was some kind of overblown attempt at intimidation, but that’s not what it is, is it?
“Stop that,” he says peevishly.
The guard, now close enough that Wei Wuxian can see the individual hairs that make up his mustache and the pockmark scar on the side of his nose, gives him the sort of superior look that Wei Wuxian is all too familiar with. “You’re not exactly in a place to be making demands.”
Wei Wuxian shoves at his chest.
The guard hardly shifts his stance at all, grinning as he watches Wei Wuxian realize he’s stuck. If he had Chenqing it might be a different story, but the dizi attracts more attention than he needs when no one’s trying to kill him. His heart begins to pick up speed. He might be in trouble, actually.
He stops struggling for a moment and flashes the guard a smile. “Hold on. I think you should reconsider—“
He gets a laugh in return. “Now you want to reconsider? You should have thought of that before you ended up somewhere you don’t belong.”
Wei Wuxian is done playing nice. “Get off of me or you’ll wish you were dead.”
The guard laughs in his face again, his breath smells faintly acidic. “What are you going to do?” And as if to prove his point, he grabs hold of Wei Wuxian’s hair near the base of his skull and jerks his head back, crushing their mouths together in a kiss. He shoves his tongue into Wei Wuxian’s mouth and Wei Wuxian bites down, hard as he can.
The metallic taste of blood floods his mouth and the guard yells, head jerking back. Blood gushes out over his chin, down the front of his robes.
Knowing he has the man’s blood on his teeth, Wei Wuxian bares them and says coldly, “Let. Me. Go.”
The guard glares at him, swiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his wrist. “You wish,” he growls and jams his knee up into Wei Wuxian’s balls.
The pain is instant, blinding, and he gasps, all the air suddenly absent from his lungs. He’s dimly aware of the sting of his knees hitting the stone ground, but the swell of nauseating agony makes it difficult to focus on anything else. His body does it’s best to curl in on itself, but the guard grabs one of his wrists and then the other, and Wei Wuxian can’t gather the strength to pull away from him.
When the pain finally starts to recede and he can think again, Wei Wuxian finds his wrists bound together with a golden sash. The guard puts his left foot down on the loose end, pinning Wei Wuxian’s bound hands to the ground in front of his knees—then he presses the other between Wei Wuxian’s legs, grinding down into his dick just a little. Wei Wuxian gasps again.
With a quick glance around, the guard starts peeling his robes open. He glares down at Wei Wuxian and digs his toes in, sending a new wave of nausea up through Wei Wuxian’s belly. “Bite me and you’ll regret it,” he says pointedly.
Wei Wuxian feels his mouth twist into a dark smirk. “Only one of us will regret this.” He pulls back his head and then drives it forward, hard as he can, into the dick poking out from between gold robes.
Wei Wuxian relishes the guard’s hoarse scream and the way he folds in half. Unfortunately, his cultivation level is pretty good and he recovers quickly, backhanding Wei Wuxian with a growl. Pain explodes through his cheek, into his nose, and he feels blood spill from between his lips, spattering onto the pale stones beneath him.
“Jin Tengyi!” someone yells and then pauses and adds, with horror, “What are you doing?”
Jin Tengyi, as he is apparently called, has dragged himself upright again, breathing like a wild boar, his lips wet with spittle. His hair has come out of its neat top knot, his teeth bared in a snarl as he puts his foot down on Wei Wuxian’s throat.
It hurts, of course it hurts, but Wei Wuxian has been through far worse and he glares up at the asshole, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing him wince.
Another voice calls Jin Tengyi’s name, the commotion of several others rising and falling around it. They have an audience now.
One of the other guards tugs on Jin Tengyi’s arm, his eyes huge and round in his face. “Tengyi,” he hisses and anything else he has to say is cut off by the whipcrack of Lan Wangji’s voice demanding, “What is this?”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls, grimacing at the hoarse croak that comes out.
There’s a moment of stillness, of near-silence, then Lan Wangji breathes, “Wei Ying.”
A gasp ripples through the crowd.
“Let. Him. Go .”
Lan Wangji’s voice often sends shivers down Wei Wuxian’s spine, but the frigidity in it now is a new source.
Above him, Jin Tengyi turns around. His expression is still hostile when he snarls, “This riffraff—“
“ Let. Him. Go ,” Lan Wangji repeats, voice growing louder so that it thunders off the stone. Wei Wuxian hears the sound of feet shuffling backward.
It seems to have registered with Jin Tengyi just who he’s speaking to because his expression smooths and he says, “Yes, Hanguang-Jun,” and removes his foot from Wei Wuxian’s throat, jerking the sash from around his wrists with a look of disgust.
He still has no idea just how much trouble he’s in.
Wei Wuxian pushes upright, wincing at the discomfort he can feel all the way down into his chest, but he ignores that to whine hoarsely, rubbing at his wrists.
An instant later, Lan Wangji drops down at his side in a swirl of pristine white robes.
Wei Wuxian hates how pale he looks, the skin taut across his features. He’s vaguely aware of someone yelling at Jin Tengyi in a low voice, but that doesn’t matter at all, not with Lan Wangji cupping his wrists gingerly and turning them over for inspection.
“Where are you hurt?” he asks, eyes darting up to Wei Wuxian’s face.
Perhaps Wei Wuxian shouldn’t encourage Lan Wangji’s more savage side—but then again, who if not him? He juts his lip out, feeling it split again and bead with blood and waves at his surely bloodied face.
A Jin clan member moves in, hands extended in offering and Lan Wangji looks up long enough to accept the dampened cloth he’s been offered. He folds it around the fingers of his right hand and Wei Wuxian tilts his head back, sure that his throat must be a splotchy red mess. He’s right if the tightening of Lan Wangji’s eyes is anything to go by. Lan Wangji nods and begins dabbing at the itchy crusting blood around Wei Wuxian’s mouth with a single-minded focus. The care and regard he shows makes Wei Wuxian’s skin heat, the urge to run and hide nearly unbearable. How can his husband do this to him?
“Where else are you hurt?” Lan Wangji asks.
Wei Wuxian squirms a little, makes his eyes as big and liquid as he can and he says mournfully, “I may not be able to bear you any more children, husband.”
He watches Jin Tengyi’s face drain of blood, the other Jin clan guards gathered around him turning to gawp at him in horror, the color draining from their faces just as quickly.
Lan Wangji’s hands remain gentle, but his shoulders grow taut, his rage building palpably in the air around them, as blatant and prominent a threat as Wei Wuxian’s own resentful energy might be. “He touched you.”
Wei Wuxian looks over Lan Wangji’s shoulder and meets Jin Tengyi’s eyes. “He said he was going to teach me to stay where I belonged.”
His husband’s nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing to slits as his jaw clenches hard enough that Wei Wuxian worries he might snap it in half. Behind him, Jin Tengyi is so pale Wei Wuxian wonders that he’s still upright. The Jin clan members who had come to stand around him have slowly inched back and now Jin Tengyi stands alone in the center of a wide arch of people. “I will take care of this,” Lan Wangji says and Wei Wuxian only just manages not to laugh when Jin Tengyi takes a reflexive step backward.
Lan Wangji begins to rise and Wei Wuxian catches his sleeve, halting his ascent. If he lets Lan Zhan leave his side, Jin Tengyi will pay for what he’s done with his life. And although the idea of that does have some appeal, he’s seen enough death to last him a thousand lifetimes. “Lan Zhan,” he says, looking up from beneath his lashes, “can we go back to our room?”
“Yes,” Lan Wangji says instantly, taking Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Anything you want.”
Wei Wuxian smiles up at him. Lan Zhan is so good to him.
Lan Wangji squeezes his fingers and then finishes rising. “We are done,” he announces, then turns back and helps Wei Wuxian rise to his feet, carefully observing his face, the way he moves. He curls one arm around Wei Wuxian’s back, sturdy and supportive. They turn as one to face Jin Tengyi.
“He will be banished,” Lan Wangji says in a tone that brooks no argument, “Immediately.”
Jin Ling stomps forward, glowering his little heart out. “You heard him. Escort him out of here.”
Wei Wuxian sighs and leans into Lan Wangji’s hip, grateful to have that over. The crowd parts swiftly before them and he smiles a little as Jin Ling’s rebukes start to grow in volume and momentum. It pleases him inordinately to have Jin Ling coming to his defense with so much vehemence.
The rooms they’ve been given for the duration of the conference are a short walk away, but it’s long enough for Wei Wuxian to begin truly feeling the effects of the encounter. His throat and his face ache, throbbing in time to the beat of his heart. The tension and strength are starting to seep from his limbs, leaving him feeling watery and shaken.
When Lan Wangji closes the door behind them, he sets Bichen aside and then immediately begins inspecting Wei Wuxian’s person again. He lifts his hand, cupping Lan Wangji’s cheek. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m fine.”
Lan Wangji’s head comes up and his eyes are red-rimmed, his gaze furious. “He touched you,” he whispers harshly. “Tell me what he did to you.”
Wei Wuxian sighs, tracing his fingers along the folds of fabric crossing Lan Wangji’s chest. He doesn’t particularly want to rehash it, but if Lan Zhan wants to know…
He winds their fingers together and tugs Lan Wangji over to the bed where he coaxes him to sit and then curls up tucked against his side. It helps to settle both of them.
Lan Wangji lifts their linked hands into his lap and strokes the back of Wei Wuxian’s, following the bones with his fingertips. He listens while Wei Wuxian relates what happened, choosing his words carefully and downplaying the incident, lest Lan Wangji get all riled up again.
“...and then you swept me back here. Hardly a story at all.”
“If I ever see him again I will cut him down where he stands.”
Wei Wuxian laughs and then sighs a little, turning their hands over so that he can trace his own fingertips over Lan Wangji’s palm. “We’ve seen enough death, don’t you think?”
“I could see one more,” Lan Wangji says darkly, warming Wei Wuxian all the way to his toes.
Now that he’s finished with the telling, Wei Wuxian finds he’s more exhausted than ever. He lays his head in Lan Wangji’s lap, sighing with contentment when Lan Wangji teases the ribbon from his hair and begins drawing his fingers through it so gently Wei Wuxian could cry. He’s dozing, soft and comfortable despite the ache in his throat when Lan Wangji murmurs, “Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian makes a questioning sound, unwilling to open his eyes.
“May I touch you?” Lan Wangji asks voice nearly a whisper.
Wei Wuxian drags his eyes open. “Lan Zhan,” he says gently, reaching to caress his cheek, “you never have to ask.”
“But I will,” Lan Wangji says, eyes intent on Wei Wuxian’s face.
“Kiss me,” Wei Wuxian demands and Lan Wangji bends and does just that.
He handles Wei Wuxian as though he’s made of priceless porcelain, which isn’t always his way. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to be handled gently, but it brings tears to his eyes nevertheless. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be loved so much by Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji nudges him off his lap to lie on the pillows, which Wei Wuxian whines about, but it does give them a better angle. Lan Wangji kisses him deeper, still excruciatingly gentle.
“Lan Zhan,” he sighs.
“Wei Ying,” he murmurs in reply.
With that same tenderness, Lan Wangji peels the robes from his body, one layer at a time, pressing featherlight kisses to every inch of uncovered skin. When Wei Wuxian is nude beneath him, his skin gone hot with desire, Lan Wangji removes his own robes, and then they’re skin to skin at last.
The warmth of him is a balm, soothing the last of the tension from Wei Wuxian’s muscles, filling a need he hadn’t consciously realized he had. He curls his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders, tracing the tips of his fingers over the back of Lan Wangji’s neck and sinks bonelessly into the bed. Lan Wangji’s face is just inches from his, his gaze locked on Wei Wuxian’s face, filled with such warmth Wei Wuxian can hardly bear it. “Ah, Lan Zhan.”
His voice is still rough, his throat swollen with blood. It annoys him because he could have gotten that same effect here with Lan Wangji while having a lot more fun and he was deprived of that.
Lan Wangji’s eyes drop to Wei Wuxian’s neck and his expression falls slightly. To anyone else, it would hardly be noticeable, but to Wei Wuxian, it’s as obvious as tears and it pierces him straight through the heart.
“I’m all right, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs, even as Lan Wangji grazes his thumb over the tender skin. Then he bows his head and brushes a breath of a kiss over it then another and another until Wei Wuxian realizes he’s covering the full breadth of the injury. He’s struck by a sudden and inexplicable fear and tightens his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “You know I didn’t want to, right?”
Lan Wangji’s head snaps up, his gaze intense. “Of course! Wei Ying, I would never think—”
Wei Wuxian gives a laugh that shakes somewhat and clutches at Lan Wangji’s shoulders, trying to draw him back down, embarrassment heating his face. “No, no, I know you wouldn’t, who could possibly compare to you?”
“Compare or don’t. I know Wei Ying and I trust him.”
Wei Wuxian whimpers a little, eyes stinging again, then gasps when Lan Wangji begins guiding spiritual energy into his body, slowly filling his tiny golden core up to the brim. Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy sings through his meridians and some of his weariness fades. He arches into Lan Wangji’s body, feeling a rush as the pain in his throat and his still aching balls eases.
“Better?” Lan Wangji asks, catching his gaze when his eyes flutter open again.
Wei Wuxian grins dopily and nods. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Not troublesome to do. Want Wei Ying to feel better.” He kisses along Wei Wuxian’s jaw with deliberation, each press of his lips placed with exacting care.
“I always feel better with you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian sighs, skimming his palms along the sides of Lan Wangji’s body, the definition of the muscles under his skin.
“Wei Ying deserves all I can give,” Lan Wangji says softly, and Wei Wuxian whines, pulling on Lan Wangji’s hips.
“I want this,” Wei Wuxian says and slips his hand around to grasp Lan Wangji’s wonderfully significant cock. It nearly spans his palm, thick enough his fingers almost don’t touch curled around it. Lan Wangji makes a low noise somewhere between his chest and his throat, forehead pressing into the crook of Wei Wuxian’s neck.
“Wei Ying ,” he breathes desperately as Wei Wuxian begins stroking, enjoying the smooth slide of his velvety skin over his hot, hard length.
“Yes, Lan Zhan?”
“ Haa! ” Lan Wangji breathes out heavily as Wei Wuxian twists his hand, dragging the ridge of his palm over the head. He parts his legs, settling Lan Wangji between them more firmly, his knuckles brushing his own balls on the upstroke. Lan Wangji groans, soft and low, letting his forehead drop to rest against Wei Wuxian’s collarbone, hot as a brand.
Wei Wuxian wriggles a little, breathes warmly into the side of Lan Wangji’s head, “You’ll fuck me, won’t you, Lan Zhan?”
He grins at the thin, desperate noise Lan Wangji makes in reply.
Then yelps in surprise when Lan Wangji snakes a hand between his thighs and presses against his opening. “I will,” he vows, voice resonating deep within his chest.
“Yes, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian gasps and pushes down into the touch.
Lan Wangji shifts onto his knees and leans off to the side briefly, though Wei Wuxian doesn’t let him get far, grip firm on his cock. Lan Wangji returns with a jar of oil and slicks up his fingers before reaching down again to massage the opening to Wei Wuxian’s body, his lips finding Wei Wuxian’s again.
Wei Wuxian moans, rocking his hips down into the pressure, his body yielding easily to Lan Wangji’s touch. He feels overwhelmed, surrounded in the best way with Lan Wangji’s hair curtained around their faces, his torso pinning him against the bed, his fingers inside his body. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!” He tosses his head, heat flooding from his belly up into his chest, urgency building in each of his limbs until he’s digging his fingers into Lan Wangji’s hips, trying to hurry him along.
Lan Wangji won’t be rushed though, caressing Wei Wuxian’s insides with the same care and exactitude as he had kissed the marks on his throat. Wei Wuxian sighs shudderingly, little noises bursting from between his lips every time Lan Wangji’s fingertips skim over that place inside Wei Wuxian that sings like his guqin.
Finally, when he’s whimpering almost constantly, Lan Wangji withdraws his fingers, leaving him yearning.
It’s only a moment, but it feels like an eternity before the immense, blunt head of Lan Wangji’s cock presses against his body and then inside. “Lan Zhaaaaan .”
Lan Wangji trembles faintly as he sinks bit by bit into Wei Wuxian’s body, his breaths coming quicker, sweat trickling down his temples. He grasps Wei Wuxian’s hand in his own gripping it so tightly against the bed that the bones ache sweetly. Wei Wuxian all but sobs when their hips are flush at last, so full he feels wild with it. “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji gasps and kisses his throat, hips moving in tiny grinding motions that felt incredible sparking through him and driving him to desperation.
His orgasm builds slowly with every rock of Lan Wangji’s hips, with every kiss, every caress, so inexorable that he can see it coming and aches for it long before it happens. When it does, it spills over him and he cries out, shaking and clenching around Lan Wangji, his whole body slick with sweat. He’s still quivering with aftershocks when he feels Lan Wangji release inside him with a short, sharp cry.
They relax as one, Lan Wangji using the last of his energy to slip out of Wei Wuxian and curl up behind him, brushing a kiss across his shoulder.
Wei Wuxian laughs, worn out in the most wonderful way and presses back into Lan Wangji’s body, feeling safe and loved and protected.