Chapter Text
-15-
It takes a couple of days for everything to settle down, but the festival resumes to great fanfare and a massive influx of people. The plume of black energy had been seen dozens of li away in all directions, and spectacles always draw crowds.
Wei Ying slots the book of arrays into its place on Popo’s shelf. “That’s the last of them,” he says. “Thank you for allowing us the time to, um, track it down.”
The old woman inclines her head graciously. “Of course. Stay for tea, won’t you?”
As she sits them down, she puts a hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you in person,” she says. “Your Hanguang-jun takes good care of you.”
Scratching the side of his nose, Wei Ying smiles. “Likewise. And, yes, he does.”
The man in question is sitting so close, the entirety of his leg from knee to hip presses against Wei Ying’s. As if he hasn’t been pressed against Wei Ying in other places nonstop over the past several days.
As they converse, Wei Ying’s gaze keeps shifting over to the book collection. He nudges Lan Zhan’s thigh—subtly—which only earns him a raised eyebrow.
“Go ahead and ask, Wei-gongzi,” Popo says, clasping her hands on the table and watching him expectantly. What is it about old ladies and always being able to tell what a person is thinking?
He coughs into his fist, cheeks flushed. “Right before we got here, Lan Zhan and I were discussing a proposal we’d like to present to all the sects under his jurisdiction as Chief Cultivator. Why don’t you tell Popo, Lan Zhan?”
With a deep sigh, Lan Zhan stares at Wei Ying for a long moment before looking back to their host. “With your permission, the Lan sect would be honored to copy your collection for the Cloud Recesses library. We would like to create an accessible archive of cultivational knowledge for all who need it.”
“Xiandu realizes that he is asking for the results of my ancestors’ hard work,” Popo says.
Lan Zhan nods. “Yes. We will prioritize due respect and diligence when handling the manuscripts.”
Narrowing her eyes and glancing between the two of them, expression stern, she hums. “Alright. You can copy them and keep the originals.”
“Aiya, Popo!” Wei Ying exclaims. “You just said they’re your family’s legacy!”
“And I can think of no better place to keep it safe,” she replies. “If you make those copies so the village can have them when I pass on, they’re yours.”
“It will be done. Thank you for your generosity,” says Lan Zhan.
“And this one thanks you for offering, Hanguang-jun.”
They spend the rest of the visit discussing logistics for the proposed undertaking, and after, Popo sends them on their way with a promise to visit again.
“So,” Wei Ying says as they walk back. “This project. Sounds like an extended visit to the village, wouldn’t you say? We can set up a rotating outpost of Lan cultivators staying at the tavern and copying the books here so they can send off the books as they’re completed.”
“Mn. It will take some time for our scribes to finish the project.”
“It’ll require supervision. Perhaps by Xiandu himself and this beautiful and mysterious man hanging off his arm.”
“Everyone knows who you are, Wei Ying.”
“Yes. A beautiful and mysterious man. Your beautiful and mysterious man.”
Lan Zhan huffs a small laugh. “Mn.”
“But! I think this would also be good training for Sizhui, don’t you think? Perhaps he could even oversee the project with input from various sect leaders. Perhaps the sect leader of Lanling Jin would be a good place to start.”
“What makes you so sure Jin Rulan would be a wise choice?”
“What makes you so sure he wouldn’t be?”
“Hm. One does not presume to know the mind of Jin cultivators,” Lan Zhan intones as though reciting a rule from the Wall of Discipline. “I will discuss it with Sizhui.”
Wei Ying loops their arms together. “Ah, good boy, Lan Zhan. You know, I think that between the constant stream of guests from your sect and the festival crowd each summer, the local economy will be just fine. In a roundabout way, Zhao Huang got what he wanted.”
“Mm, though I understand that Zhao Yuchang was seen dipping into his own liquor supply last night.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying gasps, scandalized. “Are you gossiping?”
Lan Zhan’s serene outward appearance does nothing to hide the amusement shared through their connection. “I am relating eyewitness testimony,” he says.
“Eh? I can’t believe it. Where was this Lan Zhan when we were young? Who taught you how to skirt the rules in this way!”
Lan Zhan puts an arm around Wei Ying, hand on the curve of his waist as they enter town. “Who do you think?”
“Who, me?”
“Mn.”
“You flatterer. As if I have anything to teach you.”
“You can teach me many things, such as...” Lan Zhan says, leaning in to murmur something in his ear that immediately makes Wei Ying’s entire face and neck prickle with heat.
“...Lan Zhan.”
“Mhm.”
“Tavern. Now.”
“As you wish.”
---
Wei Ying’s breath leaves him in a rush as his back hits the wall outside their room.
Slotting a thigh between his knees, Lan Zhan holds him in place, aimlessly fumbling with the door while they kiss and wrenching it open to maneuver them inside. He hooks a finger in the collar of Wei Ying's robes, tugging insistently and working the offending garments half-way off by the time they reach the bed.
They topple onto it together, Lan Zhan’s weight settling on top of Wei Ying. His thigh returns to its home between Wei Ying’s legs.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying gasps. "My love, we have time."
Lan Zhan, mouth hanging open, rolls his hips. “Mn,” he agrees.
The rest of Wei Ying's robes come off in quick succession. Once upon a time, he had imagined making love in the cover of darkness, naked but not exposed. Now, he lies back, languidly spreading his legs and biting his lip while Lan Zhan drinks in the sight of him. Every little scar, every imperfection, all of it on display and cherished.
Lan Zhan's fingertips trail reverently across the planes of Wei Ying’s body. He takes his time admiring what he has already explored; discovers with interest how Wei Ying reacts to a teasing finger along his inner thigh. "Beautiful," he murmurs into Wei Ying's belly when he buries his face there. His lips press into Wei Ying's skin, tongue dragging upward over his ribcage to capture a dusky brown nipple in his mouth.
Wei Ying cries out as Lan Zhan bites, back arching off the bed as pleasure shoots to his groin. “No fair,” he manages between panting breaths, “that you get to see my beautiful naked body laid out before you like this, but you’re covered in so many robes I don’t know wh—mmf!”
Straddling Wei Ying and capturing his lower lip between his teeth, Lan Zhan sucks and laves it while shrugging off the outer layer of his clothing. “Patience,” he says when he lets go and leans back.
“Rude,” Wei Ying breathes, mouth wet and needy. He tries to follow after Lan Zhan when he leans back, hips thrusting without leverage against the anchor of his weight, but to no avail. “Can’t believe you. Leaving me waiting like this.”
Lan Zhan’s lips twitch, warm self-satisfaction curling around Wei Ying like a smug embrace through their connection. “‘We have time,’” he quotes. He grinds down when Wei Ying whines in response, hips rotating in a torturous circle that draws breathless sounds from both of them. Divesting himself of another layer, he leans down to latch onto Wei Ying’s other nipple.
Curse him. Curse Lan Zhan and his clever tongue, flicking at Wei Ying’s nipple until it peaks; curse him and the way he knows Wei Ying’s desires before Wei Ying can even figure them out himself.
Another layer off. Lan Zhan’s broad frame fills out his robes well, but the a good portion of it is usually hidden beneath all that fabric. With each robe he sheds, he reveals the definition of his waist little by little until finally, finally, he bares himself to Wei Ying’s hungry gaze, his inner robe hanging loosely off his shoulders.
Surely, he must feel what effect he has—Wei Ying’s arousal, trapped and at Lan Zhan’s mercy, throbs with every beat of his racing heart. Their compound desire swells and threatens to overwhelm both of them.
“Look at you,” Wei Ying gasps.
Lan Zhan frees his hair, placing his complicated guan off to the side before leaning down to kiss Wei Ying again. “Too busy looking at you,” he murmurs against Wei Ying’s mouth before slipping his tongue inside to thwart any clever responses. Drawing Wei Ying upright, he only breaks the kiss to climb off of him before tugging him into his lap and kissing him again.
“You,” Wei Ying breathes, pulling away just enough to speak, “need to stop turning my compliments around on me like that.” He wraps his legs around Lan Zhan’s waist and puts their foreheads together with a gentle thunk.
Dark eyes glittering in the sunlight streaming through the window, Lan Zhan kisses his way to Wei Ying’s neck and nips the tender skin below his jaw. He smiles against his skin, soft lips making Wei Ying shiver. “Make me.”
Wei Ying’s laughter shakes them both. “I’ll sneak them in,” he promises. “I’ll compliment you so much you won’t even realize it. You can’t possibly reverse all of them.” Sliding Lan Zhan’s final robe off his shoulders, Wei Ying sweeps his hair aside and curls forward to taste the skin along his collarbone. Lan Zhan shudders when Wei Ying nibbles at one of the lovebites he left there last night, fingertips digging in when the sweep of his tongue follows after.
With a lunge that would threaten to knock Wei Ying off balance if not for the strong hands on his waist, Lan Zhan grabs Wei Ying’s oil from beside the bed. “You should not have revealed your strategy,” he murmurs.
He is, of course, correct, but Wei Ying can’t let him have the upper hand. Time for a different strategy, then. He rebalances himself, pushing Lan Zhan onto his back and pinning him down with a triumphant grin.
His victory doesn’t last. Next thing Wei Ying knows, Lan Zhan has him flipped on his back again, a cascade of hair shielding them from the rest of the world, one hand spread across his tailbone. “Nice try,” he says, kissing Wei Ying on the nose. Reaching between them, he encircles both of their cocks, giving a long, unhurried stroke that has Wei Ying bucking into his grasp.
The low heat that’s been pooling in his belly since the start spreads into his limbs, curling his toes and tightening his embrace around Lan Zhan’s neck. “Er-gege,” he whispers, “do you think we can try it today?”
“Would you like to?”
“Uh-huh,” Wei Ying whines as Lan Zhan dips lower to fondle him. “We were so close last time, but I think—ah—I think I can do it now.”
Lan Zhan plants one final kiss—or several—on Wei Ying’s face. Sliding down his body, he trails more kisses, looking up through fluttering lashes until he reaches Wei Ying’s belly button. Opening the stopper, he asks, “Would distracting you help?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Shuffling further back, Lan Zhan kisses the head of Wei Ying’s cock in reply.
“Yeah, yeah, that’ll help,” Wei Ying says. “Definitely. Mhm. Yep.”
So, Lan Zhan distracts him.
The first slide of an oiled finger at his entrance makes Wei Ying gasp and tense up, but Lan Zhan diverts his attention, the slide of his tongue like a soothing balm that relaxes Wei Ying bit by bit. Then he takes Wei Ying even deeper, and before Wei Ying realizes it, Lan Zhan has pressed inside.
“Good, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says when he pulls off for air. “You are doing well.”
The even timbre of Lan Zhan’s voice sends a frisson of pleasure coursing through Wei Ying’s body, and, oh, he’d really like to feel that again. “How well?” he prompts.
In response, Lan Zhan presses even deeper, Wei Ying’s body opening up for him like he’s meant to be there. “Very well,” he praises. He makes a small noise of interest when a tremor racks Wei Ying’s body and he tightens around Lan Zhan for a moment before letting go. “Will Wei Ying be good and take another?”
“Mhmm. I’ll be good.”
The stretch, although uncomfortable at first, turns into a reassurance as Lan Zhan eases him open. He lets his mind wander, focusing in fits on Lan Zhan working his way inside, on Lan Zhan’s other hand spreading him open, on the mounting pleasure building at his core. Lan Zhan still sucks and licks at him occasionally, but he seems to have discovered a better use for his mouth—whispering approval into Wei Ying’s skin, into the soft flesh of his thigh, the curve of his belly.
“How many?” Wei Ying asks. It feels like a lot. He’d thrown his arm over his eyes at some point, so he can’t look down to check. “Lan Zhan, ah, how many?”
“Two,” Lan Zhan murmurs. “You took them all the way. Very good, Wei Ying.” He punctuates his words with an angle adjustment, dragging his fingers over something inside of Wei Ying that has him crying out in time with the usual thrill of gratification, this time much more intense.
“Lan Zhan, I want—” Wei Ying’s words fall away, replaced by a quiver in his breathing. He doesn’t have to complete his thought. Lan Zhan knows.
Lost in the mixed pleasures of Lan Zhan’s mouth and clever hands, Wei Ying doesn’t even realize when Lan Zhan pushes in another finger. Not until the three spread him open, the stretch almost burning before it gives way to the feedback loop of their combined emotions—his bliss together with Lan Zhan’s satisfaction. But still, it’s so much. Lan Zhan’s fingers are big, but his cock is bigger, and Wei Ying doesn’t know how much more his body can take, how much more he can be filled.
He must say all of this out loud, or Lan Zhan can still read his mind somehow, because Lan Zhan says in a low voice, “You can take more.”
“I don’t think, I can’t, I don’t—” Wei Ying whimpers. Lan Zhan’s fingers stop their slow circling, and Wei Ying hadn’t even realized they were moving before. The acute loss of motion sends something tearing through his body; he writhes against the mattress, trying to push himself backward onto Lan Zhan’s fingers, to get more of—of whatever that was. More of Lan Zhan. “Don’t stop,” he whispers. “Please. I want all of you.”
He tries not to fuss when Lan Zhan withdraws his fingers entirely; he knows what comes next, that he needs to suffer the temporary loss to get what he really wants, but—
But—
The bed jostles as Lan Zhan settles into position, bending Wei Ying nearly in half as he lines himself up. He presses the very tip of his cock inside Wei Ying’s body.
Wei Ying’s jaw drops in a soundless moan as his arm drops away from his eyes. They had not gotten nearly this far last time. This time, Lan Zhan has been patient. It’s—the light outside has started to change. It must be late afternoon, and Wei Ying has barely touched Lan Zhan at all.
His eyes keep flicking between Wei Ying’s face and where he’s entering his body, the pinch between his brows deepening as he works himself steadily inside. He doesn’t give up and snap his hips into the heat of Wei Ying’s body like he did yesterday with Wei Ying’s mouth, but he’s so big, so much—Wei Ying is saying this out loud again, isn’t he—that Wei Ying can’t take him, doesn’t want him to stop. “Please, Lan Zhan,” he whines.
Lan Zhan’s thighs, trembling with the effort of restraint, finally meet Wei Ying’s body. He holds position, panting himself through a surge of near-overwhelming pleasure that almost sends them both over the edge, stopping it just in time. The danger of climax recedes.
And it dawns on Wei Ying. He’s— “Lan Zhan, you’re—”
“Mm,” Lan Zhan grunts. He draws out. Drops back inside, wrenching a scream from Wei Ying’s throat—he’s so deep, there’s no way he isn’t staying there forever. But then he does it again, and again, and he sets a rhythm that’s too fast, too much, and Wei Ying never wants it to end.
Lan Zhan’s gaze focuses slowly on Wei Ying’s face now. As their tandem pleasure builds again, Wei Ying mutters not yet, maybe not out loud, but Lan Zhan gets the picture anyway. He halts with one final punishing thrust before wrapping his arms around Wei Ying’s body, hauling him upright and into his lap once more. He slips out in the process, but his cock finds Wei Ying’s body again. Hands on Wei Ying’s hips, he guides him over his cock and drops him down.
Lan Zhan takes his mouth and swallows his moan. His hips drive relentlessly into Wei Ying’s body, working in tandem as he picks him up and brings him down, over and over.
Good leverage at this angle. Wei Ying’s legs wrap around Lan Zhan’s middle again. Rocking back and forth, meeting Lan Zhan’s cadence, he lets him into every part of his body. Lan Zhan’s energy floods his meridians, his mouth pliant and open for Wei Ying to explore. And in this position, the exquisite drag of his cock hits that place inside Wei Ying’s body with every thrust. Pleasure builds upon pleasure. Wei Ying reaches out to Lan Zhan through the multipoint of their connection, licking inside his mouth, muscles clenching around his cock, his core fluttering like a living thing and grasping for as much of Lan Zhan’s energy as he’s willing to give.
“Oh,” he doesn’t say out loud—Lan Zhan is here with him, here with Wei Ying right inside his head. His pleasure is Wei Ying’s pleasure, and Wei Ying’s—
“Wei Ying,” thinks Lan Zhan, and the sensation amplifies, reverberating like voices in a cave until it reaches a breaking point—and together, they shudder apart.
Clarity of thought returns with the roiling of energies in his jindan. Wei Ying’s qi swells, stronger than it’s ever been, flooding his meridians and entwining with Lan Zhan’s whole being. They sit wrapped around each other for a long, long time.
“Lan Zhan,” he murmurs in their connection. Hands sliding up to Lan Zhan’s face, he kisses him soft and slow. If home is a place to rest your head, Wei Ying should have figured out a long time ago that—“Aiya, that’s too sappy, sorry, Lan Zhan.”
“No such thing,” Lan Zhan replies, smiling into the kiss and hugging Wei Ying securely around the waist.
After a while, Wei Ying kisses Lan Zhan on the nose, returning the earlier gesture, and lays his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. The link fades. He sucks in a breath when it fizzles out completely, but then a rush of tenderness warms him from the inside out. “How long do you think this bond from the trials will last?” he asks, breath puffing hot into Lan Zhan’s neck.
“Forever, I hope,” Lan Zhan replies, resting his cheek on top of Wei Ying’s head and nuzzling his nose into his hair.
Wei Ying loses track of time, but the braying of a donkey somewhere outside brings him back to reality. He tries untangling himself from Lan Zhan’s embrace—they really ought to clean up, after all—but Lan Zhan only tightens his hold. His cock pulses deep inside Wei Ying; a reminder that not only are they connected in more ways than one right now, but Lan Zhan will go as many rounds as Wei Ying is willing to give.
“Are you trying to see how long you can keep me in bed, Hanguang-jun?” Wei Ying teases, giggling as Lan Zhan goes directly for the ticklish spot on his neck with little nips and kitten licks. “Because I’m pretty sure you must know the answer by now: I’ll stay here for as long as you’ll have me.”
Lazily thrusting his hips, Lan Zhan hums. “Forever is a long time, Wei Ying.”
“Mm, I know. But if I get to spend that forever with you, then it’s worth it.”
---
Together, the rest of their life begins on a sun-warmed summer afternoon in Gusu. With bows complete and their union official, they kneel before the village altar, situated within the newly-rebuilt shrine.
The spirits of Meiduo village stand on either side, each with a relic in her palms. “You have passed the trials as partners, and the goddess deems you worthy,” says the one on the left as she places her statue on the altar.
“May her blessing carry you from this day forward,” says the other as she follows suit.
The moon at the center begins to glow.
It’s not quite a loss when Wei Ying senses the last trial connection vanishing—they don’t need a magic bond to say anything their own hands and mouths can’t reveal. As long as there are stars in the sky and waves pounding on the shore, loving each other will be as easy as the moon shifting the tides. Hand in hand, they accept the blessing, and when they look at each other, they know.
Next to Lan Zhan, Wei Ying is invincible, and next to Wei Ying, Lan Zhan will never be lonely again.
THE END.
