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The curse latches onto Lan Wangji so quietly he doesn’t even feel it.

It happens during a nighthunt. A troubled spirit of an omega forced to live away from the alpha that claimed and was claimed by him. His pain and yearning for his mate had made his ghost a problem for the village where he died, and even with everything else happening in the world, Lan Wangji found the time to go there and neutralize the threat.

Someone had to.

He puts the ghost to rest, and goes back to the Cloud Recesses.

He gets home feeling warm and sweaty. He’s always thinking of Wei Ying, so it isn’t weird when his mind keeps wandering back to him, living in the barren lands of the Burial Mounds.

Lan Wangji retires for the day and takes a cold bath. He’s tying his robes around himself when a heatwave hits him, almost making him dizzy. There’s an uncomfortable pressure in his lower body, and suddenly, he becomes very aware of the ache between his legs.

Oh. He’s going into heat.

He hasn’t had one in so long, with all the suppressing medicine and herbs he takes. Spending any time with Wei Ying at all used to almost send him to heat, every single time. After nearly making a spectacle of himself in Xuanwu cave – even with their lives in danger, even with his brother missing, his body still tried to respond to Wei Ying’s closeness, but it was too weak and starved to manage it – Lan Wangji never wanted to risk being in heat near him again.

He’s home this time, which is good. All he has to do is stay inside, and wait it out.

Lan Wangji sends a message to his brother, places the needed talismans in the Jingshi’s entrance, and goes to sleep.

—

It doesn’t get better.

Lan Wangji always thinks about Wei Ying during his heats. It’s only natural, being that Wei Ying presenting as an alpha during his stay in the Cloud Recesses had triggered his own presentation a little later.

Back then, he refused to acknowledge that smelling the first wave of Wei Ying’s pheromones in that library had done something to his body. Changed him in some fundamental way, so that he would respond to Wei Ying. 

Now, Lan Wangji knew he had been in love with him already back then, his mind refusing to see what his body already knew instinctively.

There was only ever one possible mate for him. But that mate would never look at him twice, and Lan Wangji knew this instinctively, too. Which is why he tried not to think about Wei Ying like that.

During his heats, however, it's impossible. His body calls for him in all the ways Lan Wangji tries to ignore, the emptiness he feels threatening to consume him. It's a week of pain, a week of silently calling for Wei Ying’s name, a week of sliding his fingers inside his body as deep as he can and hoping that someday it could be the one he loved inside him.

After a while, Lan Wangji realizes it hasn’t been only a week at all.

—

The next few days happen in flashes around him.

Lan Wangji knows that, at some point, someone knocks on his door. He knows he sends them away, unbearably angry to have someone interrupting the fantasy of Wei Ying’s hands holding him down in his mind.

He gets lost in these fantasies. Everything he ever keeps himself from thinking, suddenly crossing his mind like a vivid dream. Wei Ying is relentless in his imagination, yanking every layer of his robes open, tearing them when he can’t get to his body fast enough. Lan Wangji imagines them locked in a distant cabin, Wei Ying’s hands running all over his body, squeezing and tugging at his legs, his nipples, his cock, his everything.

There’s another flash of reality, someone leaving food and bath water at his door. Lan Wangji craves for cold water on his hot body, so he waits until the person is gone, and snatches it as quickly as he can, locking himself up again. He has no time to bathe though, because even one second of not touching himself makes him want to die, so he falls back in bed and thinks of Wei Ying’s whispered voice in his ears as he makes himself come again.

He’s sure another day goes by before he manages to feel sane enough to fill in the bathtub. The pain is a constant throbbing in his body, radiating through his nerves and not letting go. But stepping his feet into the cold water helps, if only a little bit.

As he bathes, he can’t help but notice all the places in his body that are sore. Slick has thankfully stopped leaking out of him for now, but the area still hurts. His nipples are uncharacteristically swollen, a bit red and tender. He can feel them itching, even though the water helps.

Lan Wangji washes himself slowly, trying to meditate. His body relaxes a little, only enough for him to have a rational thought.

This isn’t normal. He doesn’t know how long has gone by, but surely it’s been too long. His head is spinning, even as he bathes, and his vision feels turbid. He’s never been so out of himself during a heat, never gave into his instincts this much.

A knock on the door startles him, and he snarls at whoever it is before he can even realize it’s happening.

“Hanguang Jun, it’s the physician,” the voice says. “You have to let me in to examine you. Please. It’s been 16 days, and you’ve barely eaten.”

16 days. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember eating at all. But he must be getting food, because when he looks around, he sees two bowls of food on his table, entirely empty.

He also sees the mess of sheets on his bed, the pillows on the floor. It’s like he’s living in a filth of his own making, and it’s almost too embarrassing to let anyone in and see him like this.

A sharp pain hits his lower stomach, excruciating in how long it lasts, and he feels a new trail of slick leaking from inside him. Immediately, he wants to fill himself up, his mind wandering back to clever eyes and a beauty mark under red lips.

He needs it. He needs Wei Ying. He needs–

In a last attempt at rationality, Lan Wangji focuses the energy in his core into remaining sane. It’s difficult, almost impossible, but he gets up from the bathtub and manages to get dressed in three layers of clothes.

Then, forcing himself to stand upright, he opens the door.

—

“It’s a curse,” a voice says, just outside of his window. “A strong one. None of my usual methods of dispersal worked.”

Lan Wangji’s opens his eyes. Even through the fog of pain he feels, he tries to listen to what’s happening. For a second, he’s worried the sound-blocking talismans he placed aren’t working, but the ones he drew only work for blocking noise coming from the inside.

“Our fears were right,” his brother says, also outside. “We took too long to notice.”

“It’s not your fault,” the physician says. “You’re family, so his scent isn’t affecting you.”

“His scent?” Shufu says. “But we put barriers all around the Jingshi. No one should be feeling anything.”

There’s a pause in the voices. Lan Wangji focuses his efforts on sitting up on the bed. He does it slowly, because even moving this much sets his skin on fire.

A new wave of pain hits his stomach, making him nauseous. He doesn’t dare stand up fully.

“His pheromones are erratic,” the physician says. “They’ve been getting out of the barriers for a while now. Not too much, but other alphas can already sense him.”

Lan Qiren’s voice hesitates. “Is Wangji in danger of attack?”

“No,” she says immediately. “His scent repels them. It…” she pauses. “The curse calls for a very specific alpha. It’s smart in that way, but cruel, too. No other alpha except for the one it calls for will even stand being near him.”

No voices for a second. And then:

“It will be someone he knows. He doesn’t smell like he has a mate, but does he have something close to one?” the physician asks. “The heat will only get worse, as long as that alpha doesn’t fulfill the requirements of the curse.”

“How worse?” Lan Xichen asks.

She lowers her voice. “It will give him more and more pain. And pain like that… It can destroy someone. We have to find a solution as quickly as possible.”

Another moment of silence outside.

Lan Wangji closes his eyes again, gripping the sheets by his sides. A curse. That makes sense.

He searches inside himself, focusing the energy he still has in trying to find it, and fight it. His hands are trembling, and even using his spiritual energy is tiring, but he manages to detect it.

It is a desperate thing, clinging to the paths inside him where his qi flows, and poisoning them with need. It seems to whisper I need my mate my mate my mate, over and over again. He never noticed when it took over him, because the beginning of his heat never seemed out of the ordinary.

The curse is merging too well with a need he already has running through his veins.

“If this calls for someone specific…” his brother’s voice says, and Lan Wangji is suddenly mortified. “Shufu, certainly it’s–”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lan Qiren says. “They aren’t mates. They haven’t seen each other in months. Why would it call for him?”

Lan Wangji swallows dry. He never told his uncle about his visit to Yiling. About meeting A-Yuan, or spending time in the Burial Mounds.

“Even so,” Lan Xichen says. “Lan Wangji has made his choice a long time ago. Apparently, the curse knows it.”

The silence is oppressive, this time. Lan Wangji lowers his head, feeling specks of sweat running down his temple. He cannot help wanting Wei Ying, anymore than he can help being cursed.

But now that he knows, at least he can try to fight it.

“We’ll resolve this through the righteous means,” Lan Qiren says, and the tone of his voice is final. “There will be a solution in the library.”

Lan Wangji hears them going away. Righteous means, his uncle says. What he means is without getting Wei Wuxian involved.

Even the word "righteous" leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, by now. He hates that nothing Wei Ying does is seen as righteous anymore, even though he is the only person who still seems to have some sense.

And still, he can’t help but hope that the library holds the key to breaking the curse. They need to solve this without him. Involving Wei Ying would be unthinkable.

With a grimace, Lan Wangji falls back down on the bed, and tries his best to meditate.

—

The next time Lan Wangji wakes up, there is a hand on his pulse.

He immediately sits up in bed, pulling his arm back. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he has crawled into the furthest corner of his mattress, shrinking as if burned.

“Wangji,” his brother says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt.”

Leave, his entire body wants to say. His limbs are weak, heavy, but he still feels the need to fight inside him.

This isn’t Wei Ying. It isn’t his mate, it isn’t the one he needs, so what is the point of him being here? He needs–

“No need to snarl,” Lan Xichen takes a step away from him, frowning. “I was only sharing spiritual energy with you. You’ve barely eaten in the last few days.”

It is only then Lan Wangji realizes he is snarling, very low, in the back of his throat. He stops himself, trying to gather his thoughts.

This is only his brother. His brother, trying to help him. From… from a curse. He is cursed.

Why is it so hard to think?

“Xiongzhang,” he manages to say, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Lan Xichen says. “Here.”

He gives him water and a bowl of soup, and watches as Lan Wangji eats it. It’s hard, focusing his energy on staying aware of his surroundings. The back of his mind is playing images of Wei Ying’s lips, his hair, the turn of his body when he–

Lan Wangji grits his teeth when a new, sharp pain shoots through his body. It takes a while to disperse, this time, making him double over himself in agony.

When he comes back from it, his breathing is fast, and his body is trembling. His brother’s hand is on his pulse again, sharing more of his spiritual energy.

He looks up, and sees Lan Xichen’s worried eyes staring back at him.

“It’s getting worse,” his brother says. “You’ve been feverish for days. Almost delirious.”

Lan Wangji nods. He can feel it, too. The curse is less heat now, and more pain. His entire body is still calling for Wei Ying, but every time it does, instead of desire, he just feels the distress and torture of not having him near.

“How many days has it been?” he asks.

“Almost four weeks. We’ve been trying everything we can think of.”

Four weeks? He looks down at his own body, worried he will be dressed in filthy, dirty robes, but he’s not. His robes are clean, and his Lan sect ribbon sits on his forehead, unmoved.

“The doctor has been looking after your modesty,” Lan Xichen says, clearly seeing his distress. “Don’t worry. No one comes into this room except for me, her, and shufu.”

Lan Wangji clears his throat. This is still three more people than he would ever want to see him in a situation like this.

“What about–” he starts, but another wave of excruciating pain burns through him, starting low in his stomach, like scorching needles stabbing into his guts. He waits for it to go, and takes a deep breath. “The cure?”

Lan Xichen tightens his lips.

“We haven’t been able to find a cure yet,” he says. “Shufu is desperate. We have discreetly asked for the help of other scholars, and so far–”

There’s a noise outside of his door, like hurried steps on the grass. Lan Wangji feels a scent he doesn’t recognize, and instinctively draws into himself, a cornered animal’s reaction. He realizes his body’s behavior a second too late, and tries to force himself to sit upright again.

“Lan Xiansheng!” there’s the voice of a disciple outside his window.

“Yes?” Lan Qiren says, also outside.

Lan Wangji presses his lips together. So his uncle has been standing there too, just outside the Jingshi.

“Lan Xiansheng,” the disciple says again, lowering his voice. “He’s here again.”

He says it with a certain inflection to his voice, and Lan Wangji watches as his brother goes tense by his side. It’s a discreet change, almost imperceptible, but he notices it clearly.

“Again?” his uncle says. “Tell him to leave. We do not allow his entrance.”

“Forgive me,” the disciple says. “But he told us he won’t leave this time. Not until he gets to see Hanguang Jun.”

Lan Wangji looks at his brother, a question in his eyes. Lan Xichen swallows, and doesn’t tell him who it is.

“I don’t care what he says,” Lan Qiren responds. “He will not come in.”

“A-Alright, Lan Xiansheng,” the disciple says.

Lan Wangji hears the young man leaving, but his mind is already getting hazy. He’s starting to feel sweaty again, on the verge of dizziness, and it’s becoming difficult to breathe.

“Who…?” he tries to say.

“Don’t worry,” his brother answers. “Focus on staying strong. We will find a way to get rid of this curse.”

Lan Wangji’s head spins. A new heatwave hits him, and the pain that comes with it is almost unbearable. Only years of strength and golden core training keep him from letting out a tortured sound.

“I don’t…” he starts, but his mouth is dry. “I can’t…”

There is a shift in the air around him.

Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open. Right there, very faint, he can smell a hint of sweet liquor. He inhales again, and there it is. The distant spiciness in the air, mixed with the smell of earth.

The scent of a very particular sort of sweat.

A scent he knows too well.

“Where is he?” Wei Ying’s voice pierces through the air.

Something stabs right through Lan Wangji’s body, lighting him up from the inside out. Wei Ying is here. His scent feels far away, and entirely too mild, but he’s here.

Lan Wangji’s vision goes dark around the edges, the world dancing around him as he sways.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees his brother going out of the Jingshi, and quickly closing the door behind him.

“Wei gongzi,” Lan Xichen says hurriedly from the outside. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Where is he?” Wei Ying asks again. “Where’s Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji gets up. His legs are weak, but it doesn’t matter. Wei Ying is here. His entire being yearns to get close to him, finding strength wherever it can.

He manages to get all the way to the door, stumbling on his own feet. But when he gets there, something in his mind makes him stop.

He can’t get Wei Ying involved. He can’t.

He puts his hands on the door, his body shaking.

“He’s resting,” Lan Qiren says, from the outside. “We cannot allow anyone to go through these talisman barriers.”

“You said that when I came last week,” Wei Ying hisses through his teeth. “And yet, he’s still sick. Are you saying you’d rather him die than tell me what’s happening?”

Lan Wangji’s nails scrape on the door, closing into fists.

Last week, his brain echoes. Wei Ying has been here before, looking for him?

“He is not going to die!” Lan Qiren says. “We are going to deal with–”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was a curse?” Wei Ying says, also raising his voice. It is not his usual calm and collected threat, but something raw. Lan Wangji can feel the anger in his words. “I know about curses. My friend is a physician, and she’s a specialist. If I could only see him–”

“Wei gongzi,” Lan Xichen says again. “Words of his curse were not supposed to get out of the Cloud Recesses. This is very serious to us. Where did you hear about it?”

Wei Ying scoffs.

“Where didn’t I hear about it?” he spits out. “It’s all anyone talks about. Hanguang Jun’s mysterious pheromone curse.”

There is a hesitation in the air.

“Is that all they say?” Lan Xichen asks. “Is that why you’re wearing that scent blocking talisman?”

“Who gives a damn what people say?!” Wei Ying yells. “Let me see him. Now.”

It’s the now that gets Lan Wangji to move, his body working despite his rational thoughts. His hands open the door of their own volition, something deep within him needing to see him, needing to be seen, and to be close.

The wood rattles open, and Lan Wangji takes a single step outside.

Wei Ying’s gaze immediately snaps to him, the worry so clear in it it sends a new wave of pain to Lan Wangji’s heart.

And then, Wei Ying’s nostrils flare, and his eyes go wide.

There’s a talisman taped to his chest, and it starts shrivelling and burning. Even through the fog in Lan Wangji’s brain, he can see it’s a scent blocker.

He can also see it’s not working anymore, now that he has broken out of the Jingshi’s protections.

Wei Ying moves quickly, fetching paper out of his own pocket. He draws a new symbol in the air, something for blocking scents again, but the characters in it are stronger than the previous one, more intricate. He stains the paper with it, and then slaps it to his own chest.

It blazes in bright red, and then quiets down.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, looking at him again.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji tries. “I’m fi–”

Wei Ying’s scent becomes even weaker in the air, like it’s pulling away from him, and Lan Wangji’s body immediately burns with withdrawal.

The crash of pain this time flares inside his veins like a river of fire, stealing the breath from his lungs. His knees buckle, unable to keep him up any longer.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying yells.

“Wangji!” His brother and uncle say.

Wei Ying gets to him first, blocking his fall. He holds Lan Wangji by the arms, and somehow they both go down, falling to their knees right there, by the door to the Jingshi.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers by his side. “Are you alright? Where does it hurt?”

Lan Wangji can’t think, can’t answer. Now that Wei Ying is close, touching him, every nerve in his body is aching, wanting to beg him to come closer, to make the pain go away.

He looks up, and it’s the wrong thing to do. Wei Ying’s eyes are too familiar. Too close to all of the fantasies he’s been having for weeks, of having those eyes on him with far less innocent purposes behind them.

He can feel his desire waking up again, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about the slick that starts leaking out of him.

“Lan–” Wei Ying tries, and suddenly stops, his hands tightening on Lan Wangji’s arms. Something dark flashes in his expression. “Oh.”

Wei Ying holds his breath, and immediately reaches into his pocket again. Another talisman is drawn, and he puts it right beside the first one, above his own chest.

Lan Wangji can’t see what this one says. His vision is becoming too blurry, and his body too hot. He is suddenly very aware of his own skin, of all the places where he burns.

The way his slick slides down the middle of his thighs. The way his nipples brush against the fabric of his robes, itchy and sensitive…

The way Wei Ying is still looking at him, his throat bobbing when he swallows.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, very low, just between the two of them.

Lan Wangji uses the last hints of spiritual energy he has for restraining himself. For keeping control.

“Wei Wuxian!” his uncle’s voice is distant, almost like an afterthought. “You need to leave!”

“Wei gongzi,” his brother says, much closer. “We really need to deal with this on our own. If you stay–”

Lan Xichen’s hand comes up to touch Lan Wangji’s arm, but Wei Ying strikes it away. He pulls Lan Wangji closer, and he falls into him, dropping his head to Wei Ying’s shoulder.

Lan Wangji feels the vibrations first, and then hears it. A low growl, coming from deep within Wei Ying’s chest.

Wei Ying is growling at his brother.

Lan Wangji bites the insides of his cheek, and chants inside his mind: restraint, restraint, restraint.

“Don’t touch him,” Wei Ying threatens. “I can’t believe you let it get this far. Look at him! He’s almost passing out!”

Lan Wangji struggles to breathe. Wei Ying’s scent fills his senses, extremely weak through the blockers, but for a quick, sublime second, the pain almost fades. It’s impossible to resist coming closer, and he barely has any rational thought left in him to be ashamed at his current lack of posture. The pathetic way his hands close around the fabric of Wei Ying’s sleeves, trembling with weakness.

“I’m taking him,” Wei Ying says, and his tone is final. “And I’m going to solve this, since your sect clearly can’t.”

For a moment, there is no sound from Lan Xichen’s lips. In the far corners of his mind, Lan Wangji hears his uncle saying something, but it doesn’t really reach him.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen finally speaks to him, his voice quiet and secretive. “Do you want to go?”

All Lan Wangji can do is tighten his grip on Wei Ying’s robes. He cannot imagine a worse fate than being made to let go of him.

There’s a movement in front of his eyes, and suddenly Lan Wangji is being swept off his feet. Wei Ying slips a hand under his knees and behind his back, and lifts him up completely.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, for his ears only. “I know you’ll hate me for carrying you later, but it’s just this once, alright?”

“Wait,” Lan Xichen says. “Take Bichen. And take care of him.”

His brother places something on the hand Wei Ying has under his legs. Lan Wangji feels Bichen near him, even if he can’t see it. It doesn’t even register in his mind that he left his room without his sword.

“Xichen! You can’t possibly–” his uncle starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t hear the rest.

Above his head, Wei Ying starts whistling.

It is a slow, sultry melody, made to attract something. A cloud of dark smoke surrounds them both, coming from the ground up. Lan Wangji feels it the moment they start floating, and then flying, above the Cloud Recesses’ roofs.

It’s resentful energy, some part of his brain, still thinking critically, tells him. They’re flying in a cloud of resentful energy.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like the oppressive, screaming souls Lan Wangji always imagined it would feel like. Instead, it just feels like Wei Ying, and a part of him, carrying him through the air.

Lan Wangji looks up groggily, and finds Wei Ying staring right ahead.

The entire world is blurry, but Wei Ying is a clear image above him, sharp, like he’s the only thing Lan Wangji needs to focus on. He can see Wei Ying’s jaw is shut tight, and his breaths are slow and shallow, almost as if he’s trying not to breathe at all.

The talismans on his chest are scorched around the edges, slowly getting smaller and smaller. Withering away.

Wei Ying looks down, and gives him a tiny, forced smile. Lan Wangji can almost feel a wave of comfort in Wei Ying’s scent, like he’s trying to send relaxing pheromones to him, even through his scent blockers.

“We’re going to break the curse, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

Lan Wangji swallows. It’s ironic that he’s saying that, when in fact he’s the only one who can truly break the curse. But not in the way he means.

Still, having Wei Ying this close is exactly what the curse needs. It’s exactly what Lan Wangji needs, although he keeps those needs far away, tucked into a secret corner of his heart. The pain subsides a little, making it easier to breathe.

Lan Wangji allows one of his hands to come up on Wei Ying’s back, curling on his robes, and the other one to rest on Wei Ying’s shoulder. He’s going insane. He must be going insane, if he’s allowing Wei Ying to carry him like this…

Focusing his senses on the comforting pheromones in Wei Ying’s dulled scent, Lan Wangji closes his eyes.

—

When they get to the Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji is so dizzy he can barely think.

His head is shoved deep into the collar of Wei Ying’s robes, and both of his hands are splayed across Wei Ying’s back, circling him, and clutching him tightly. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he doesn’t want to let go. He’s never held Wei Ying this close in his life. He never thought he would get to.

Wei Ying is holding him to his chest, secure, but Lan Wangji can feel that he’s shaking. He’s breathing very slowly, almost like he’s trying not to breathe at all, and Lan Wangji knows his scent is affecting him, somehow.

In a very deep, very dark corner of his mind, he almost wants to know what Wei Ying thinks of it. Does he like the way he smells? Is the curse really making his pheromones more attractive to him?

The talismans on Wei Ying’s chest have almost completely burned out by the time they land on dusty grounds. Lan Wangji can almost smell him fully now, and it’s not helping him become more aware of his surroundings. Instead, he feels faint, one step away from losing control.

The only thing he’s hyper-aware of is Wei Ying.

His comforting pheromones did a great job of lessening the pain Lan Wangji was feeling, but they have replaced it with flaming desire instead. He’s trying to stay proper, not to lean completely into his instincts, but it’s almost impossible.

Lan Wangji lifts his nose a bit, letting it almost brush against the base of Wei Ying’s neck, and feels himself salivating.

“Fuck,” Wei Ying whispers above him. “Lan Zhan, fuck, hold on. Hold on just a little bit, alright?”

Lan Wangji nods lazily. Yes. He’ll do anything Wei Ying asks.

He’s walking now – no, running, – and the motion shakes Lan Wangji a bit. It makes his body rub against Wei Ying’s chest, in a way that he has only ever dreamed about. He knows his own cock is hard in his pants, he knows he’s been leaking the entire way here, and still, he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed. With the way he’s curved, he doesn’t think Wei Ying can see it.

One of Lan Wangji’s nipples is squeezed in between both of their bodies, and it aches. It’s pulsating to the beat of his heart, a pleasurable kind of pain that Lan Wangji has never experienced before. He squirms in Wei Ying’s arms, completely involuntary, and feels Wei Ying taking in a sharp breath.

“Lan Zhan, try to stop moving,” Wei Ying says, his voice hoarse. “Please. I can’t–”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji breathes, right into his neck.

Wei Ying starts running faster. Suddenly, the trees disappear, and they enter a dark cave.

“Wei Ying!” a familiar voice calls. “Oh. That smell is–”

“Stay away from him!” Wei Ying nearly yells, gripping him a little tighter. His scent changes a bit, but Lan Wangji doesn’t know what it means.

“I have to examine him,” Wen Qing’s voice comes from afar. “That’s why you brought him here, remember?”

Wei Ying seems to hesitate. “Right. Right, yes. But now I don’t think it’s a good idea. Because his scent is… too strong. And you’re an alpha, so–”

“Who would get close to him when he’s like this?” she asks, sounding almost disgusted.

Wei Ying doesn’t say anything. He simply stays there, his fingers digging into the sides of Lan Wangji’s body.

“Fine,” she sighs. Something happens by his side, but Lan Wangji doesn’t see it, and doesn’t care. “Here. It’s the scent blockers you made. Happy?”

“Are they working?” he asks, clearly nervous. “Mine weren’t. I had to make new ones, and I can still…”

“They’re working fine,” she reassures him.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says. “Alright, then.”

There’s silence for a while. Lan Wangji’s senses are clouded by Wei Ying all over, so he can’t smell her at all, which is good. He doesn’t know what he would do if he smelled an undesired alpha right now.

“I’m putting him in my room,” Wei Ying says, suddenly starting to walk again. “We don’t have any good guest beds. I can’t just put him anywhere.”

They walk a little bit more, and then Lan Wangji is being placed on a thin mattress, above a smooth slab of stone.

Wei Ying drops Bichen on the bed by his side, and then carefully removes his arm from underneath Lan Wangji’s knees. The loss of it already feels gigantic, but then he starts pulling the arm that had been supporting his back, and Lan Wangji feels himself whimpering.

Wei Ying brings his hands back, just to hold Lan Wangji’s shoulders. It’s not enough, and Lan Wangji’s dizziness immediately starts to become sickening nausea again. In the back of his mind, he realizes he’s clutching Wei Ying’s arms as hard as he can, keeping him close.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying’s voice is strained. “You… You have to…”

He trails off. Lan Wangji can see his throat bobbing as he swallows. He’s so focused on Wei Ying he can even see a drop of sweat sliding down his neck.

“Hanguang Jun,” Wen Qing says. “You need to let go of him, so we can help you.”

Something deep inside Lan Wangji’s brain wakes up then, reacting to another person being in the room. His ears burn with embarrassment. He should be dealing with this more rationally, with some propriety, at least.

Slowly, like he has to fight against his own survival instincts, he pries his arms away from Wei Ying’s body.

Wei Ying takes several steps away, going as far from him as he can. His eyes are bloodshot and wide, and the talismans on his chest are scorched completely.

Lan Wangji feels the loss of his touch like a brand of iron, burning his entire body at once, inside and out. He thinks he wails, thinks he screams, because the onslaught of pain is unlike anything he has ever felt in his life.

He falls forward, almost slipping from the bed, but catching himself at the last second. Wei Ying is halfway on his way back to him, but when he sees Lan Wangji steady himself, he stops.

“What was that?” Wei Ying’s panicked voice asks, looking from him to Wen Qing, and back. “What’s happening to him?”

Lan Wangji is shaking so hard his teeth are chattering. Somehow, having Wei Ying’s touch and then losing it made the curse worsen quickly, much quicker than it had in the last two weeks combined.

“We’ll find out,” Wen Qing says. “What did they tell you about the curse?”

“Nothing,” Wei Ying says. “They didn’t even tell me it was a curse, at first. I know exactly what I told you before I left.”

While he speaks, Wei Ying draws two more of his intricate scent-blocking talismans for himself. He slaps them on his chest, activating them, and his scent wooshes out of the room like it’s being ripped away from Lan Wangji’s hands.

The feeling of deprivation steals the breath from his lungs, and Lan Wangji wants to scream again. He inhales as deeply as he can, trying desperately to cling to a single whiff of his alpha’s scent in the air.

He finds it, but not in the way he is expecting. Wei Ying’s scent is all over him, mixed in with the air, but it’s a much cozier version of it, like an aftertaste on his tongue.

Oh. Of course. They’re in Wei Ying’s bedroom. It’s not enough, but it’s something.

He clings to it with everything he has, and tries to keep his sanity intact.

“Hanguang Jun,” Wen Qing comes closer to him, and she is blessedly scentless, thanks to her own talisman. “Can you speak? Do you know more about this?”

The room spins around Lan Wangji’s head, making him feel like he’s swaying madly. Half of him wants to throw up, and the other half wants to scream.

“N…” he coughs. Breathes. Tries again. “Nighthunt. A wronged omega. Craving… for his mate.”

It’s all he can get out, before he gets completely out of breath.

“Alright,” Wen Qing nods. “I’m going to examine you.”

Lan Wangji barely manages a weak nod. Wei Qing comes closer, and takes his wrist up to feel his spiritual energy.

From the far corner of the room, Wei Ying starts growling again, deep in his chest.

Lan Wangji’s eyes snap to him, all of him wanting to respond to that growl, something warm coiling in his lower body. He wishes Wei Ying could come closer again. Just to touch him a little, for only a second, so some of the pain could fade.

In his mad, tortured brain, he can’t help but think about it. Is it such a bad thing, if he asks for Wei Ying’s touch? Would it really be so shameful? He can’t remember why he shouldn’t, right now. Something about a fragile friendship, but it hardly matters anymore. What if he just–

“Wei Ying,” Wen Qing admonishes, glaring at him. “Stop that. I’m working.”

The growling stops. Wei Ying blinks like he’s coming out of a fantasy.

“Sorry,” he says. “I… I don’t know why I did that.”

Lan Wangji gets a little clarity, too. Control yourself, a faraway part of his brain insists. This is not the time to lose the fight against this curse. If there’s anyone he trusts blindly to find out a way of breaking it, it’s Wei Ying.

And Wen Qing, yes. She is also here. And she’s saying something. Lan Wangji tries to focus on her.

“... with eternal heat,” Wen Qing says, and then frowns. “But… it keeps oscillating between need and pain, and it’ll get worse until you can’t take it anymore. Right now, it’s mostly pain. Like it’s punishing you for not fulfilling the curse requirements.”

Lan Wangji closes his eyes. He already knew that. As if on cue, his lower stomach throbs with a lacerating kind of agony, and he doubles over again, grabbing the sheets underneath him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, taking only one step closer. He stops himself again, and it makes Lan Wangji’s heart twist with misery.

“I’ll give you some spiritual energy,” Wen Qing says. “It might help with the pain, at least for a few minutes.”

He feels her energy flowing inside him almost immediately. It’s… different, coming from a physician. He almost feels it looking for the places inside him that need healing.

Slowly, his mind starts to get clearer.

He looks at Wei Ying again, and finds him already staring back. He has a hopeless look on his face, and Lan Wangji wishes he knew what to say. He wishes he could see him smiling.

“What are the curse requirements, then?” Wei Ying asks, turning desperately back to Wen Qing. “Can we find out?”

An alarm goes inside Lan Wangji’s head at the question. The fog in his thoughts dissipates a little as Wen Qing’s energy enters his body, but he still has some difficulty making sense of it.

“The right alpha needs to spend the heat with him,” Wen Qing says. “It’s… fairly straightforward, for such an intricate curse.”

Slowly, Wei Ying starts pacing around, his mind trying to work over a solution.

“I’m going to put a few scent-blockers on the door,” Wei Ying says. Even his voice is seductive, calling to Lan Wangji in a way he almost can’t resist. “The last thing we need is for the alphas in the Burial Mounds to be drawn here. Back in the Cloud Recesses, I could smell him from the gates, even through the barriers they had,” he talks fast as he walks, nodding to himself. “It was faint, but it clearly didn’t work completely. We can’t risk–”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Wen Qing lets go of Lan Wangji’s wrists and turns to him. “The foul smell we’re getting from him? That's what everyone else will feel, too. The curse makes his scent repulsive to every alpha around him except for the right one. They’ll be so nauseated they won’t be able to come closer.”

Wei Ying stops his pacing entirely, turning to her again.

“... What did you say?” he asks, his voice quiet.

Lan Wangji’s eyes go wide. “No. Don’t–”

“It’s a cruel way to make sure he only fulfills the curse with his mate,” Wen Qing keeps saying. “He will only smell appealing to whoever he is bonded to. Except…. Hanguang Jun isn’t bonded to anyone.”

Wei Ying’s eyes slowly slide to meet Lan Wangji’s.

“Bonded?” he whispers.

Suddenly, like a mirror cracking, Lan Wangji feels himself rushed fully back into the reality of what’s happening.

Wei Ying is not stupid. Of course not. He’s the smartest man Lan Wangji knows, and he will surely connect everything together.

His uncle was right. He shouldn’t have come.

“Wen guniang,” Lan Wangji struggles to say, his voice coming out hoarse. “Give us a moment, please.”

Wen Qing looks from Wei Ying to him, but their eyes are glued on each other, and neither of them looks away.

She gets up promptly, adjusting her robes. “Alright. I’ll start seeing to a cure.”

With that, she leaves the room, and closes the door behind her.

Wei Ying takes a step closer.

“It’s me,” he says, almost in a whisper. “The alpha you— The alpha your curse wants.”

Despair blooms in Lan Wangji’s chest. He wasn’t meant to find out about his feelings like this. He wasn’t meant to find out at all.

“I apologize,” he starts. Talking is difficult, but he does feel slightly more aware of his surroundings, for a second. “I shouldn’t have… put you in this position.”

“What?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Wangji focuses every ounce of his leftover strength on taking Bichen and getting up. Wen Qing’s share of spiritual energy wasn’t big, but it’s enough to set him upright for a moment.

“I’ll take my leave,” he breathes. “I shouldn’t have come.”

He takes one step forward, and feels his knees give underneath him. Wei Ying rushes to his side, but Lan Wangji lifts his hand to stop him.

“Don’t touch me!” he manages, catching himself with the rest of the strength he has. He sets Bichen on the floor and supports himself on it.

Wei Ying pulls back with an unbearable look of hurt on his face.

“It’s just–” Lan Wangji stops. Breathes in slowly. “That much more painful. When you have to let go of me.”

“But it helps?” Wei Ying tilts his head at him. “If I touch you, it helps?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t answer that. Every second of being in Wei Ying’s presence is maddening. The talismans on his chest are getting scorched quickly again, and Lan Wangji can feel the hints of his scent coming back to the room. It is almost impossible to resist falling into him.

But he already knows too much, and if Lan Wangji doesn’t leave now, it will only get worse.

“Lan Zhan, it really is me, isn’t it?” Wei Ying comes closer again, almost touching him, their skin barely a hair width apart. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lan Wangji lifts his eyes at him, trying his best to stand upright. He can see Wei Ying’s hands, stretched out by his sides, like he’s ready to catch him at any sign of weakness again.

It has always been Wei Ying’s instinct to help, in detriment of himself. He is too good.

“I cannot be… one of the people you feel obligated to help,” Lan Wangji says.

“It’s not an obligation!” Wei Ying’s eyes get a pained glint to them. “We’re zhiji, aren’t we? I brought you here because I want to help.”

Lan Wangji can only stare at him. The pain he’d been feeling had dimmed to a dull throb, but it starts sparking up again, demanding to be acknowledged. Wei Ying’s scent gets a little stronger, and it doesn’t help with the clarity of his mind.

“I…” he swallows. “Still. It is not your fault– that I am like this–”

“You’re so stubborn!” Wei Ying yells. “Am I really that repulsive to you, that you would rather die than take my help? Is it my cultivation?”

The words are like a blow to Lan Wangji’s chest. He falls back, and this time, he doesn’t catch himself, landing on a sitting position on the bed and Bichen falling to the floor. Wei Ying comes closer again, but respects his wishes not to be touched, instead keeping his hands there, hovering around Lan Wangji’s arms.

Lan Wangji stares up at him, horrified.

“You’re not. Never,” he says, truthfully. “I would never find you repulsive.”

The look in Wei Ying’s eyes change then, suddenly determined.

He kneels down in front of Lan Wangji, putting his hands on the mattress by his sides. It is almost dizzying to see him there, so close, right in between Lan Wangji’s open legs.

With panic rising in his chest, Lan Wangji feels the slightest bit of slick dripping from his body.

Wei Ying looks down quickly, in the direction of his crotch, and then right back up to Lan Wangji’s face.

“Very well, then,” Wei Ying licks his lips. “There is another way to break the curse. Right now. The way it’s meant to be broken.”

Lan Wangji feels himself blushing from the tip of his toes to his hairline.

“What?”

“You know what I mean,” Wei Ying leans in closer. His hands inch closer to Lan Wangji’s hips, sliding across the thin mattress. “We could end your pain. By tomorrow, you’d be good as new. You’d be yourself again.”

The words reach Lan Wangji’s ears, but he can barely make sense of them. What Wei Ying is suggesting right now is… Unimaginable. Beyond every single one of his fantasies.

“Wei Ying,” is all he can say.

“Why not?” Wei Ying tilts his head at him again, forcing Lan Wangji to meet his eyes. “If I’m not repulsive to you, then why not?”

Lan Wangji swallows. “I… could never force you. Not with this. I–”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, and it sounds almost like a plea. The talismans around his chest are almost entirely gone, now. “I’m offering. I’m willing. Believe me.”

Lan Wangji’s entire body is shaking, his mind turning hazy again, from pain and the promise of pleasure alike. More slick slides down from him, and he swears he can see Wei Ying’s nostrils flaring.

“You’re calling for me,” Wei Ying’s eyes travel down on his body. “You smell just as good as you always do, but… so much stronger. Like it’s all mine. Fuck,” he curls his fingers on the mattress, almost tearing the fabric apart. “How can I not listen to it?”

“It is,” Lan Wangji says, before he can help himself. Wei Ying lifts his eyes to him.

“What?”

“It is yours,” Lan Wangji breathes. He can’t keep it inside anymore. “I am.”

There is a breathless, suspended moment between them.

And then Wei Ying is on him, throwing him back on the bed, and climbing on top of his body.

Their lips crash together in hunger, and in the confused, frenzied state of his mind, Lan Wangji can barely think of what he’s doing. The kiss is sloppy, wet, and it sets a thousand fires inside his body.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says into his mouth, his warm breath clouding over Lan Wangji’s senses. “You smell so good. So good. It’s so hard to keep to myself–”

“Then don’t,” Lan Wangji whispers. He can’t think of control now, not with Wei Ying in between his arms, and his scent finally filling up the room around him.

Wei Ying brings his hands down to his sash, quickly untying the knot. It barely registers in his mind that this is Wei Ying, about to see him naked. Lan Wangji curls his arms around his neck and slides his tongue inside his mouth, finally tasting him like he’s wanted to for all of these years, and forgets about everything else.

“Fuck, how many…?” Wei Ying pulls back to look down, trying to untie his second robes. “Sorry. But–”

Lan Wangji hears a ripping noise, and then the cold air is hitting his naked chest. His torn robes fall open on the bed, and Wei Ying leans down to kiss him again, desperate.

He slides a hand inside Lan Wangji’s hair and pulls, exposing his throat. His lips go down to kiss Lan Wangji’s cheek, nuzzling into his jaw. He stops over his scent gland, and gives it a tentative lick.

Slick gushes out of Lan Wangji’s hole, soiling his robes, and Wei Ying licks him again. His cock aches with how hard he is, and suddenly, all he can think about is having Wei Ying inside him.

“Please,” he says, past the point of being too embarrassed to beg. “Please. Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying’s free hand runs over his body, sliding down his waist and exposed hip. He moans when he finds Lan Wangji’s cock, dripping precum on his belly.

“Fuck, look at you,” Wei Ying says, wrapping his hand around him. Pleasure shoots over Lan Wangji’s body, and he swears he almost comes right then and there. “You’re so ready. All mine.”

Lan Wangji nods, chasing his lips for another kiss. This is everything he has ever wanted, but he is empty. He needs Wei Ying to fuck him. He needs it now.

He slides his hands down to Wei Ying’s robes, finding his belt. He unties it quickly, and throws it to the side of the bed.

His hands go to open Wei Ying’s robes, and then, suddenly, he feels cold.

Wei Ying lifts his body away from him, holding his robes closed. His eyes are wide, panicked, and Lan Wangji doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

Alpha? he wants to ask. Almost asks. But his rational mind takes over at the last moment.

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying’s scent changes. There’s something scared in it, something cautious that worries Lan Wangji. He can’t put his finger on exactly what it is.

“Turn around,” Wei Ying says quickly. “You have to turn around.”

Lan Wangji feels himself blushing again. In all the times he has allowed himself to imagine him and Wei Ying in bed, together, they were always face to face. There is something… especially vulnerable, about turning.

Still, the desire coiling in his stomach doesn’t allow him time for shame, and the curse screams. He wants to do everything his alpha asks of him. Everything.

He turns around quickly, setting himself on his hands and knees.

“Good,” Wei Ying says, and a rush of adrenaline curses up his body. He’s pleasing to his alpha. That is all that matters.

In one swift movement, Wei Ying takes the rest of Lan Wangji’s robes off, pulling them off his arms. Lan Wangji’s pants are pulled down, and then torn off, with no ceremony at all.

Lan Wangji falls back on his hands and knees, completely exposed to the room. He can feel it now, how wet he is, how much slick is running down his thighs, his balls, falling to the mattress.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says behind him, almost breathless. He puts both hands on each side of Lan Wangji’s ass, his thumbs brushing against his hole. “Oh. Lan Zhan. You’re so–”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he spreads Lan Wangji’s cheeks, and shoves his face into it.

“Ah–!” Lan Wangji keeps himself from yelling in shock. He barely has time to feel surprised, or ashamed, before the onslaught of pleasure takes over his entire body. Wei Ying laps over his hole, licking every drop of his slick, and slides his warm, wet tongue inside him.

It should be embarrassing. It should be mortifying. In the insane, overwhelming pleasure of it, Lan Wangji can’t even remember what those words mean.

The smell of Wei Ying’s lust fills the room as his tongue moves inside him, and Lan Wangji goes dizzy. He feels his reason escaping him, more and more with every lick, until he is nothing but a slave to his own instincts.

“Please,” he says again, shoving his hips back into Wei Ying’s face. “Please. Inside. I need–”

Wei Ying pulls his tongue out of him, and Lan Wangji whines at the loss.

“Fuck, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says from behind him. “You taste so good. You’re so good, all over, I–”

“Please,” Lan Wangji begs, lifting his hips up. The position feels right, somehow. He drops his shoulders to the bed, resting his head on the pillow, and looks back at his alpha. “Please.”

Wei Ying meets his eyes and visibly swallows. Lan Wangji feels him inching his thumbs closer to his hole.

Slowly, tentatively, Wei Ying slides one of them inside. It goes in easily, with barely no resistance at all. Lan Wangji moans into the pillow, opening his legs a little further.

“Wow,” Wei Ying says, then swallows again. “That’s. That’s…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he takes his thumb out, and slides two fingers inside. They go in almost easily again, and Lan Wangji feels even more slick sliding down as Wei Ying opens him up.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Wei Ying whispers. “I always thought you’d be– so hard. To open.”

Lan Wangji hides his face in the pillow, his ears scorching hot. Always? Does Wei Ying think about him, like this?

Somehow, the knowledge makes something purr inside his body, and his cock twitches madly between his legs. Lan Wangji isn’t sure if it’s him or the curse.

Right now, he doesn’t think there is a lot of difference between the two.

“Wei Ying,” he moves his hips towards Wei Ying’s fingers, trying to get them deeper inside himself. “Hurry.”

“You’re so easy,” Wei Ying says behind him, focused as he moves his fingers in and out of Lan Wangji’s hole. He shoves a third finger inside, stretching him open, and Lan Wangji almost goes mad. “So good. Fuck…”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji pleads, his cock dripping on the bed. “Alpha–”

Wei Ying pulls his fingers out of him so quickly it almost hurts. But he finally kneels behind Lan Wangji’s body, and the hurt couldn’t matter less.

The blunt head of Wei Ying’s cock pushes inside him slowly, and Lan Wangji loses his ability to breathe.

He moans, long and loud, as he feels Wei Ying’s firm hands grabbing each side of his hips. It keeps him in place as his alpha shoves inside, little by little, like he’s trying to push all the air out.

The pleasure climbs fast inside him, making him lightheaded. Wei Ying pulls back a little, and then goes in again, shoving just a little bit more of his length inside.

“Alright?” he asks, but Lan Wangji can’t answer. He nods once, quickly, and feels himself drooling on the bed. It’s happening, it’s happening, Wei Ying is inside him–

Wei Ying pulls back out again, and the next time he slides in, he bottoms out, his hips slapping against skin.

Lan Wangji’s vision goes white, hot pleasure crashing through his body like a violent wave. He comes entirely untouched, his cock leaking onto the bed underneath him.

Wei Ying hisses behind him, his hands tightening around Lan Wangji’s waist. He thrusts into him a few times, slowly, like he can’t quite stop himself.

“Did you just come?” he asks, his voice merely a whisper. Lan Wangji shakes on his cock, buried deeply in his post-orgasm cloud. “Fuck, you did, didn’t you?”

Wei Ying leans in closer, dropping his weight on Lan Wangji’s back. He wraps a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times.

“And you’re still hard,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Fuck, come here.”

He pulls Lan Wangji’s body back towards him, putting him in a kneeling position, and shoves his cock inside. Lan Wangji moans, his body falling back into Wei Ying’s chest. He can’t think, and can’t speak. Wei Ying pierces into him in a maddening rhythm, and Lan Wangji can only gasp with the overwhelming pleasure.

“You’re so hot, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying hugs him from behind, shoving his face inside his neck. He fucks fast and deep into him, pressing his lips around Lan Wangji’s scent gland again.

His cock feels huge, unlike anything Lan Wangji has ever tried on himself. He can feel it stretching him as he shoves it in, over and over again, and every thrust makes his moans a little louder.

“Yes. Yes. Please,” Lan Wangji begs, not even feeling like a person anymore, but just a bundle of lust and need, getting closer and closer to ecstasy every time Wei Ying hits the right spot inside him. “Wei Ying–”

Wei Ying groans on his neck, and grabs Lan Wangji’s chest from behind, one hand on each of his pecs. He takes leverage on them, squeezing them hard, and uses them to set Lan Wangji more firmly onto his cock.

“Ah, ah–” Lan Wangji moans. Something about Wei Ying’s hands on his chest, tender and swollen, as his cock pounds deep into him is making the pleasure rise, and fast. Wei Ying squeezes him a little bit more, grazing through his nipples, and Lan Wangji wants to scream. “Close. I’m–”

“Me too,” Wei Ying’s low voice whispers, right into his ear. “I have… I should…”

He starts pulling out, but Lan Wangji can’t imagine anything worse. He brings his hands back, holding what he can of Wei Ying’s hips, of his neck, trying to keep him there.

“Inside,” he whines, digging his nails into Wei Ying’s skin. “Wei Ying.”

“Fuck–” Wei Ying thrusts deep into him and stays there, growling into Lan Wangji’s ear. His come fills him in hot splurts, different and better than Lan Wangji could ever have imagined it would feel like.

Wei Ying’s fingers dig into his chest, his nails scraping on his sensitive nipples, and Lan Wangji’s orgasm explodes.

He feels it everywhere at once. Any part of his body that can gush does, his come leaking out of his cock as a fountain of slick drenches his and Wei Ying’s legs. The pleasure is more intense this time, less accidental, and it leaves Lan Wangji’s head spinning, his body dropping back into Wei Ying’s chest behind him.

Wei Ying breathes warm air into his ear, catching his breath. Lan Wangji can barely keep himself upright. He allows Wei Ying’s arms to hold him entirely, and leans his head back into his shoulder, turning his face in his direction.

Wei Ying kisses him, slow and wet, the position making it hard to get it right. Lan Wangji bites his lips hard, and then harder when Wei Ying doesn’t complain. It only makes Wei Ying’s cock twitch inside him, still hard even after coming.

“What–” Wei Ying starts, pulling back a little. He takes one of his hands up from Lan Wangji’s chest, bringing it up to his eyes.

They both see it at the same time.

Wei Ying gasps, but in Lan Wangji’s post-orgasm haze, he barely registers what it is. There is a liquid on Wei Ying’s hand, thin and pearly white. When he brings it close, Lan Wangji can feel it smells sweet, almost like vanilla.

Bringing it to his face, Wei Ying gives it a tentative lick.

The moan he lets out makes Lan Wangji blink into consciousness again. Wei Ying’s cock pulses inside him, growing impossibly harder.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, his voice hoarse and deep. “Lan Zhan, this is…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. His breathing gets a little faster, and his scent changes again, turning spicy and strong. Lan Wangji can almost taste it on his tongue, the way Wei Ying gets hotter, everything about him becoming more overwhelming.

Before he can register it, Wei Ying is pulling out of him, and turning him around again.

Lan Wangji falls on the bed, his back to the mattress. Wei Ying’s robes are open on his chest, his pants shoved down near his knees. He takes it all off in a few quick movements, his eyes dark and focused on him.

In the quick second Wei Ying is hovering above him, Lan Wangji sees a scar. It sparks something in his brain, a kind of worry and dread, and he tries to chase the thought.

Wei Ying leans down to give his nipple a slow, small lick, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“Fuck, it’s milk,” Wei Ying says, squeezing his nipples in his hands. “It really is.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t even have the presence of mind to question it. He looks down in time to see Wei Ying latching to him, sealing his lips around one of Lan Wangji’s sensitive nipples. He sucks, and Lan Wangji bites down hard on his own lips, trying not to be too loud.

It barely works. A pained, punched out moan still comes out of him, the heating pleasure of it climbing through his whole body. Wei Ying sucks the milk out of him, biting around his nipple, and Lan Wangji falls into a state so deep within himself it almost feels primal.

“Wei Ying,” he says, over and over again. His hands come up to Wei Ying’s hair, curling inside it, keeping him there. “Wei Ying. Wei Ying, ah–”

He can’t think of anything else but pleasure as he feels Wei Ying milking him, his other hand curled tight around Lan Wangji’s other nipple, squeezing it so the liquid leaks out of him in a steady flow. It spreads through his chest, his belly, and Wei Ying’s hand. It wets the bedding beneath him, making it damp, but he doesn’t care.

It feels incredible. It feels almost otherworldly, but Lan Wangji aches. The curse has subsided inside him, but it’s still there, yelling for more, begging to be fulfilled.

“Please,” he says, feeling his hole squeezing around nothing at all. It’s painful now, to not have Wei Ying inside him when he knows how good it feels, how full it makes him. “Please. Knot–”

Wei Ying shudders violently at the word, and lifts his face to look at him.

He looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are glassy and dark, and his hair is messy, sticking out of its tie. His lips are wet with Lan Wangji’s milk, and it drips down his chin, sliding to his neck.

Lan Wangji pulls him closer and kisses him, tasting himself on his lips, something like vanilla and peach. Wei Ying moans into the kiss, pressing his entire body on him.

Instead of asking, Lan Wangji opens his legs as wide as he can, and curls them around Wei Ying’s waist. He thrusts up a little, sliding their cocks together, trying to get Wei Ying inside without having to let go of him.

Wei Ying hugs him tightly, angling his cock just right. Without stopping their kiss, he lines up to his hole, and slides inside.

The change of angle makes Lan Wangji moan in pleasure, but Wei Ying bites down on his tongue, and it comes out muffled. He holds Wei Ying a little closer, wrapping his arms around his back, and lifts his hips in time to his thrusts.

Finally, finally. He feels the curse pulling back inside him, leaving him to feel the pleasure of having Wei Ying pressing down on him. It’s exactly what it wants, exactly what he wants.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, moving down to kiss his cheek, his jaw, his ear. “Lan Zhan, your body knows. Your body knows it.”

It doesn’t make sense, but Lan Wangji nods anyway. He would nod to anything his alpha said, right now. Wei Ying thrusts deep into him, falling into a perfect rhythm, and their scents mix together in the room.

“It knows we’re zhiji,” Wei Ying breathes near his ear. “It knows we should– be bonded. That’s why–”

Lan Wangji lets out a cry of pleasure, burying his face on Wei Ying’s neck. He’s right. Of course he is. Their bodies are perfectly matched, and the curse knows it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Wei Ying says. “I want– I wish I–”

He leans down and licks Lan Wangji’s neck, right over his scent gland. He fucks him hard as he keeps lapping at it, the warmth of his breath giving Lan Wangji chills.

Wei Ying opens his lips a little, letting his teeth scrape over his skin, and suddenly it’s all Lan Wangji can think about.

“Bite,” he pleads, almost desperate, threading his fingers inside Wei Ying’s hair. “Bite me. Wei Ying–”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying whispers, but his lips stay open, and his teeth stay there, loosely nibbling on his skin.

Lan Wangji pulls his head closer, forcing Wei Ying to bury his face into his neck. He picks up the rhythm of his hips, feeling almost insane with lust.

“I want it,” Wei Ying murmurs, his voice muffled. “I want it so much, Lan Zhan, you have no idea–”

“Do it,” Lan Wangji says. “Do it. Please.”

Wei Ying pulls him down by his shoulders and firms him on his cock, going as deeply as he can inside him. The base of his length is swelling now, and Lan Wangji can feel it, the way it holds him there, the way it stretches him impossibly wider.

“Wei Ying,” he urges. He wants to beg. He wants to force him to do it, somehow. He wants it in any way he can get it. “Please– please. Alpha. Bite me. Claim–”

Wei Ying’s teeth pierce into the sensitive skin of his neck, and Lan Wangji screams.

He feels half lost in between pain and pleasure, the clutch of Wei Ying’s teeth on his scent gland unlike anything he ever imagined. He comes again, spurting right in between their bodies, his seed mixing with their sweat, and the thin liquid of his milk, leaking steadily out of him.

Wei Ying doesn’t let go. He keeps his bite on him, proprietary, until Lan Wangji starts shaking with overstimulation. His thrusts get harder and harder, sending Lan Wangji up on the bedding and making him hold on to Wei Ying’s body for dear life.

It feels like an eternity before Wei Ying lets go, his lips slightly stained in red. Lan Wangji chases him for a messy kiss, sloppy and frenzied, and barely notices the taste of iron.

“Now you,” Wei Ying says into his lips, his knot swelling so wide he can barely thrust anymore. “Come on. Bite me. Make me your alpha, Lan Zhan, I need–”

Lan Wangji doesn’t wait for him to finish. He finds the tender place on Wei Ying’s neck, the place he’d been secretly staring at for years, and bites into it as hard as he can.

“Fuck–!” Wei Ying growls, and then he is coming, and coming, right into Lan Wangji’s willing and open body.

Lan Wangji can almost feel it taking over his senses, the mixing of their souls, their scents, their lives. It suddenly feels like they’re breathing together, like every breath out of Wei Ying’s lungs goes into his.

He thinks he comes again, or maybe he never stopped, his nails digging hard into Wei Ying’s back. Wei Ying stops thrusting, but his cock keeps leaking, shooting ropes of come inside until Lan Wangji feels so full he could burst. So full he barely has enough room inside him for air.

Wei Ying lies down on top of him, letting his weight rest on his body, and Lan Wangji finally lets go of his neck. Wei Ying is panting into his ear, his body shuddering slightly every time his cock spurts a new batch of come.

 Slowly, like a weight being lifted out of his chest, Lan Wangji feels the curse slipping away from him.

He closes his eyes, and keeps his legs wrapped tightly around Wei Ying’s waist. The brain fog and the heat don’t go away, even if he feels clean of any of the pain from before. He stays there, because he wants to, and tries to lock his body to Wei Ying’s knot.

Wei Ying kisses his neck, and then licks over his bite, tender and probably still bleeding slightly. It soothes every single one of Lan Wangji’s aches. He could stay here forever. He would.

When Wei Ying stops, Lan Wangji lifts his face, and does the same to him. Licking over his bite, trying to soothe the ache. It feels intimate, and tender, and like one of Lan Wangji’s dreams.

“I…” Wei Ying starts, then swallows. “I feel a little. Dizzy. I think…”

He trails off, but Lan Wangji understands him instinctively. Wei Ying’s body is feverishly hot, and his scent is so strong Lan Wangji could drown in it.

“Rut?”

“I think so,” Wei Ying whispers. He gives his cock a tentative roll inside him, and Lan Wangji moans. “Are you– the curse…?”

“Gone,” Lan Wangji says, not without relief.

Wei Ying shifts on top of him, and for a second, Lan Wangji panics. He tightens his arms and legs around him, dread setting quickly into his stomach.

“Don’t,” he whispers, before he can stop himself. Before he can think.

“But I’m…” Wei Ying hesitates, and Lan Wangji stops breathing. “Are you sure?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says. He feels like he’s about to cry. He doesn’t know what to say.

“What if it was the curse?” he asks. “Making you want me. What if–”

Lan Wangji grabs his face and angles it toward him. When their gazes meet, he sees that Wei Ying’s eyes are red, and so much more vulnerable than they’ve been all day.

“Zhiji,” Lan Wangji whispers. He doesn’t know how else to say it. He slides a hand down to Wei Ying’s neck, right to where his bite is, and presses his thumb on it. “Mate.”

Wei Ying stares at him, for a single second.

Then he leans down, with all the care in the world, and kisses him slowly.

He’s trembling as Lan Wangji kisses him back, his entire body brimming with energy. It’s a soft moment, something Lan Wangji will cherish for the rest of his life, but he can feel how much it pains Wei Ying to stay still, right now.

Slowly, trying to find what feels good, he rolls his hips on Wei Ying’s cock.

Wei Ying groans into his lips. His knot has almost entirely subsided now, but he’s still fully hard, buried deep inside him.

Lan Wangji does it again, and then he is being lifted out of the bed.

Wei Ying falls back into a sitting position, his back to the wall behind him, pulling him along. He maneuvers Lan Wangji’s body on top of him, making him sit on his cock, and then shoves him down on it. Lan Wangji is so wet he goes down easily, buried to the hilt on his cock.

“Ah–” the air gets punched out from his lungs. This position is just on the edge of painful, but he finds he likes that very much.

“Good?” Wei Ying asks. There’s a drop of sweat sliding down his cheek. Lan Wangji leans in to lick it.

“Good,” he echoes.

Wei Ying gives him a quick kiss, and then leans down, curling his lips around Lan Wangji’s nipple. He starts sucking him again, drinking everything Lan Wangji has, and fucking up into him.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, or how long they stay there, locked in Wei Ying’s room. He only knows he gets tossed around a few times, with Wei Ying alternating between fucking him face to face and then putting him on all fours, thrusting madly inside him.

Wei Ying sucks him dry, until he is satisfied, until Lan Wangji’s nipples are raw and sore from his nibbling. The bite on his neck pulses, tender and swollen, and Lan Wangji doesn’t let go of him for a single second.

At some point, they both get tired. Wei Ying is still inside him, locked and unable to move. But he lays Lan Wangji on his side and positions himself behind him, hugging him close.

They fall asleep at the same time.

—

When Lan Wangji wakes up, the pain is entirely gone from his body.

He’s clean and dry. The bedsheets aren’t damp either, which is something he feels like he hasn’t experienced in days. And even though he’s sore in a few places, it is only in a way that feels refreshing and new.

He rolls to the side, placing his arm behind him on the bed, and finds it entirely empty.

He sits up quickly in bed, looking around. Wei Ying isn’t anywhere in the room, and neither are his robes.

Lan Wangji’s heart drops. He immediately feels a knot in his throat, something so dreadful he can’t quite put into words. What if Wei Ying regrets everything they’ve been through? What if he shrugs it off to being due to the curse, or how out of it they were?

Just as he has that thought, the door to the room opens, and Wei Ying steps in.

He has a bowl in one of his hands, and a pile of clothes on the other. He kicks the door closed with his foot, and then looks in his direction.

“Lan Zhan!” he says, his eyes going wide. “You’re awake.”

Lan Wangji feels some of his anxiety slipping away from him. But there’s something… guarded, about the way Wei Ying is looking at him. Not quite right.

“Where were you?” he asks, and then flinches at himself. He should’ve been more polite.

“I was getting you food,” Wei Ying says, setting the bowl down by his side on the bed.

Lan Wangji sits properly on the bed, and the sheets slip off his shoulders, exposing his skin. He covers it quickly, but for a fraction of a second, he thinks he sees Wei Ying’s eyes wandering down to his body.

“I also, um,” Wei Ying hesitates. Lan Wangji looks up, and sees that he’s blushing, for some reason. “I asked Granny to… sew this. Sorry.”

He hands Lan Wangji his robes. Carefully, he opens it, and takes a look at her pristine work. He can barely see where the tear is, only if he pays close attention.

“The pants were unsalvageable,” Wei Ying says, scratching the back of his neck. He’s not making eye contact. “So I’m giving you mine. I hope that’s okay.”

It is Lan Wangji’s time to blush. Wei Ying’s pants are black, a little washed out, and they smell just like him. Lan Wangji almost can’t believe he gets to have it.

He looks up, and meets Wei Ying’s eyes, staring back at him. A spark of something passes between them, but before Lan Wangji can grasp what it is, Wei Ying turns around.

“I won’t look!” he says, too loud. “You can, uh. Get dressed. See if it fits.”

Lan Wangji blinks a few times. It seems silly, that Wei Ying should turn away from his body now, after spending however many days they’ve spent in this bedroom, alone.

He realizes he has no idea how much time has gone by.

“What day is it?” he asks, as he gets up to get dressed.

Wei Ying seems to hesitate.

“It’s been three days since I brought you here,” he says. His voice is low. Lan Wangji can see, from the back of his head, that his ears are red. “I woke up about six hours ago, but… You still needed rest.”

 Three days, Lan Wangji’s mind echoes. Has it really been that long? Have he and Wei Ying really been entwined, rolling in bed, for this entire time?

His ears get impossibly hotter, and he focuses on putting on his clothes.

He finishes tying his robes, and they fit perfectly. They have also apparently been cleaned. Finally, Lan Wangji feels like a person again.

He lets out a sigh of relief. Wei Ying turns back to him, and immediately makes him sit on the bed again.

“Eat this,” he says, putting the bowl in his hand. It seems to be some kind of broth. “It’s not much, but I promise it tastes good. And it’s very nutritious.”

Lan Wangji has never eaten in bed before, but Wei Ying is staring at him with an expectant look in his eyes, and he can’t refuse.

"What about you?" he asks.

"I, uh," Wei Ying licks his lips. "I ate."

He blushes when he says it, but Lan Wangji can't quite understand why. He looks at the bowl again, and starts eating.

Wei Ying sits down by his side and watches, actually watches, as Lan Wangji eats. It’s a bit awkward, but his closeness, at least, is a good sign. Wei Ying is not hiding from him. Lan Wangji will not take that for granted.

The broth is good. It warms him from the inside, and actually soothes some of the ache in his bones. Lan Wangji exhales slowly, satisfied, and feels Wei Ying smiling next to him.

It’s strange. He’s so much more aware of Wei Ying, now. He can almost feel how hesitant he is, how eager to see Lan Wangji eating. His scent is different, too. It feels a little softer, still spicy and fresh, but with a hint of comfort that makes him want to lean into him and stay close.

Lan Wangji chances a look at him, and Wei Ying quickly averts his eyes, his cheeks blushing beautifully.

They’re bonded now. The throbbing ache on his scent gland will not let him forget about it. It happened in the heat of the moment, but it’s done, and they can’t take it back.

Lan Wangji knows now, that whatever happens, he will not leave Wei Ying’s side. He will stay with him, through whatever he needs, come what may.

That is, if Wei Ying allows him to stay.

He finishes eating, and Wei Ying takes the bowl from his hand, setting it aside on the floor. Lan Wangji frowns, but before he can make a comment about cleanliness, Wei Ying turns his pretty eyes at him.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, and his tone is solemn. Cautious. The world stops spinning around them.

“Yes?”

“About… what happened,” Wei Ying glances at his neck, at the mark there, shaped like his own teeth. “About us.”

Lan Wangji feels the fear building up inside him, all over again. Instead of talking, he waits, closing his hands into tight fists.

“I… you were cursed,” Wei Ying says. Lan Wangji feels his eyes stinging. “I was. Well. It doesn’t matter what I was, really. But you were out of yourself, and I feel like– Like I took advantage of you.”

“You did not,” Lan Wangji says.

Wei Ying shakes his head. “I’ve… forced you into a bond, and I know this isn’t a light matter. Not to anyone, and especially not to your sect.”

He’s right. It isn’t. Which is why Lan Wangji would have never let it happen, if he wasn’t sure that Wei Ying is the only one who will ever have his heart.

But Wei Ying is still talking.

“And you were so vulnerable, and I didn’t think–” he pauses, running his fingers through his hair. He sounds almost desperate. “I got carried away, and you said you were mine, so I believed it, and now–”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji stops him, because he can’t bear for his words to be twisted. “I said I was yours. It wasn’t a lie.”

Wei Ying holds his breath. Slowly, he meets his eyes again.

“That… that was the curse,” he whispers. “It was the curse talking.”

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath in. He doesn’t want to lie anymore. He has already opened his heart for Wei Ying to see, and he will not have his feelings dismissed as a mere trick.  

“All my words were my own,” Lan Wangji says, choosing his words carefully. “You did not force me into anything, and neither did the curse.”

For a second, Wei Ying is silent, simply staring at him. He looks like he cannot believe a word he says. He looks hopeless, and it breaks Lan Wangji’s heart.

“As you’ve said,” Lan Wangji swallows, averting his eyes. “The curse chose you because it knew. How… How I feel.”

By his side, Wei Ying still doesn’t say anything, his lips slightly ajar, shocked. Lan Wangji can almost hear how loud he’s thinking.

“Do you regret it?” Lan Wangji asks. “Claiming me.”

“No!” Wei Ying says immediately, and too loud. “No, I– I just mean. You don’t know what the consequences are. Being bonded to me… You have no idea who you just got claimed by. And you’re…” he lets out a fake laugh. “You’re Hanguang Jun. If you knew just how inappropriate of a match I am for you–”

“If you’re talking about your core, I don’t think the lack of it makes you any less worthy of anything,” Lan Wangji lets out.

Wei Ying’s eyes go wide. 

“How…” he starts.

“Your scar,” Lan Wangji says, softening his voice. “Was it Wen Zhuliu?”

Wei Ying’s eyes suddenly go red around the edges. Lan Wangji wants, more than anything, to take him into his arms and hold him. He cannot imagine the pain of losing a golden core.

“No,” Wei Ying whispers. “I… I’ll tell you, sometime. Not now.”

Lan Wangji nods. The promise of hearing about it later, the fact that Wei Ying trusts him enough to want to tell him, even if it’s not now, is enough.

Suddenly, everything makes a lot more sense. Wei Ying’s new cultivation method, the months he’s been lost. The fact that he won’t pick up his sword anymore.

Everything the entire cultivation world has been calling Wei Ying names about, all a consequence of this one terrible loss he has suffered.

He needs to say something. He needs to show Wei Ying how serious he is about this, about their bond.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji whispers. He waits until Wei Ying meets his eyes again. “You have always been the alpha I would choose. Your core has nothing to do with it,” he hesitates. “Although I might not be the omega you wanted.”

Wei Ying scoots closer to him in bed, and takes both of his hands, turning in his direction.

“How can you say that?” he asks. His eyes are watery with unshed tears. “Lan Zhan, I’ve… I’ve been so in love with you. For years.”

Lan Wangji feels his own eyes watering. Unlike Wei Ying, he can’t quite manage to hold the tears back.

“Wei Ying,” he breathes.

“I’m being serious,” Wei Ying says. “I really feel like I’ve taken advantage of you, because I’ve dreamed about this for… who knows how long. About us, being bonded,” he brings a hand to Lan Wangji’s neck, and presses his thumb down on the bite. “About claiming you. I have wanted you for so long I can’t even remember–”

Lan Wangji leans in and kisses him, pouring all of his love into his lips.

“In love with you,” he echoes, right into Wei Ying’s lips. “For years.”

Wei Ying takes him in his arms, holding him close. Lan Wangji buries his head in his neck, inhaling him deeply, and feels the comforting smell of both of their scents, mixed together.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughs, and it is a bubbly, euphoric sound. “What are we gonna do now?”

Lan Wangji holds him a little tighter. He has no intention of letting go.

“I’m staying with you,” he says. “If you’ll have me.”

“This is no place for you,” Wei Ying says, but Lan Wangji can feel him smiling against his hair. “Your family will kill me.”

“They can’t,” Lan Wangji says. “If we are married, that establishes an alliance between our sects.”

“Married,” Wei Ying echoes, and for a second, Lan Wangji thinks he has gone too far. “How did a feeble man like me get so lucky to marry the amazing Hanguang Jun?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything. He just stays there, enjoying their closeness, and preparing himself for the lengthy letter he will write to his brother.

“We’ll have to tell the entire world,” Wei Ying says. “There’ll be a lot of judgement. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Lan Wangji pulls back from him, just to look at his face. This time, even though he can see Wei Ying is still being careful, there is also the bright glint of happiness in his eyes.

“We’ll get through it,” Lan Wangji says. “I’m not leaving.”

The smile Wei Ying gives him is everything Lan Wangji wants to see for the rest of his life.

“Together, then,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Wangji seals it with a kiss.