[ He loves how Wei Ying falls apart underneath his touch. Whether it be with his mouth or his hands or on his cock, Wei Ying seems so receptive to him, so eager for his body. And Lan Wangji can't help but to relish in it, to love it, to run his thumbs over that pre-come and use it to make his movements more slick, liquid hot and viscous in his hands and forming such a lovely steam in between the two of them.
His tongue delves into Wei Ying's because he feels no more whole than when he can be imparted into him, physically, emotionally, connected to him in this way. His lips are so soft, both body and mouth so pliant, so eager to be molded and sculpted and entirely devoured. He withdraws his tongue, only to worry Wei Ying's bottom lip with his teeth, breaking to command into his mouth: ]
Come for me.
[ He collects every single hair-tug, catalogues all his moans and his shivers, adds them to the ever-growing shrine in his heart overtaken entirely by Wei Ying. Wonders how good he must have been in a past life, how Godly, to deserve a future of every night, pleasing his husband. And occasionally, or more than occasionally, pleasing his husband twice. ]
[The hot slide of those fingers around him, made slick by his own messy fluids feels both lewd and stimulating. Those deep kisses are enough to make him dizzy, breathless, whimpering against the press of lips as Lan Zhan strokes him, pushing him closer and closer to completion. His lips are already kiss-red, and the drag of teeth over them is intoxicating.
He tries to chase after, despite how his breath is coming faster, but Lan Zhan's whispered demand hits him and he's never wanted so badly to do as he's told. Does Lan Zhan have any idea what his voice does? How he can say such things and be so effortlessly and absolutely devastating? The words have barely left Hanguang Jun's mouth before Wei Wuxian is grinding his hips against his hand, and it's only a handful of seconds before he fulfills that whispered request.
His head falls back, exposing the long and pale column of his neck, now peppered with the evidence of Lan Zhan's affection. His name is an urgent whisper that grows into a cry as Wei Wuxian comes between them, his once tight and tense muscles relaxing as his breath quickly rises and falls.]
[ Lan Wangji kisses his neck, kisses his jaw, easing the orgasm out of his body, hand pumping away until Wangji is sure he's done. Wei Ying doesn't know how delectable he is, body like an instrument being played by Lan Wangji's hands, so gorgeously singing for him, body taut like strings to pluck.
He steals one more heated kiss before he moves out from between Wei Ying's legs and lifts his hips so that his lower half is lying on its side, and presses up against his back. Wei Ying will never have to ask how Lan Wangji would like to take his pleasure. His completely ignored cock is hard and impatient against his ass as Lan Wangji roughly grabs at a cheek and then, upon withdrawal, cups his hand and gives him a good hard smack. He does love the sound of skin hitting skin, and how the pale skin starts to blush a peachy pink. ]
Wei Ying, top drawer.
[ Inside, he's hidden a vial of massage oil that he'd taken from the spa. He figures it'd be easier to use that, and possibly would also feel slightly less painful as one of its more intended uses. ]
[Tremors run through his oversensitive body as Lan Zhan continues to stroke him, drawing out a few more mewls of pleasure. He can barely keep up as Lan Zhan kisses him, returning it messily before laying back against the bed, trying to catch his breath. Lan Zhan is already shifting him into a new position, and he can feel how hard and hot he is, and squirms just a little against Lan Zhan before he's groped roughly.
He's about to tease Lan Zhan about how it'll surely bruise, but instead, he receives a hard smack across his backside. The lewd sound he makes is not nearly so shamed and offended as he feels, and that's probably the worst part of all! He's stunned quiet for a moment, a hand flying to cover his mouth as a deep scarlet flush grows over his skin. He'd wanted Lan Zhan to be more selfish, sure, but he hadn't meant- not like that!]
Lan Zhan, h-hey, that... that stings you know?
[He looks contrite for probably the first time in his life. Even the large wooden paddles in Cloud Recesses were only for swatting them across the back! To have his ass slapped like a wayward child is... is way more embarrassing than it has any right to be.
He scrambles to reach for the drawer, hoping if he behaves, perhaps another won't follow. His eyes scan the contents for a moment before falling on the vial of oil and he hurries to grab it, then turns to hand it to Lan Zhan.]
[ But Wei Ying really is a gremlin child of a husband, and it does look like he has some shame. Lan Wangji looks about as satisfied as he possibly can, to know this about his beloved Wei Ying, and with his hand still fixated on that lovely round cheek, he leans in and whispers: ]
Let me massage it better.
[ He uncaps the oil and lets it drip all over his fingers, warming up the liquid in his hands, before dipping his hands below and actually massaging the general area, his fingers seeking out and rubbing against soft skin. He doesn't press too hard, just dissolving some of the oil into the back of his thighs and the swell of his ass, before he nudges Wei Ying's legs apart. ]
Does it still sting?
[ His breath is slightly ragged, rough underneath Wei Ying's jaw, every once in awhile leaving a possessive kiss to his throat. ]
[He's not sure if massaging it will make him any more or less likely to want to bury his face in the pillows, but the sound of Lan Zhan's voice saying such things, in that alluring whisper of his, it's truly unfair! He manages a shaky nod and worries his lower lip as Lan Zhan begins, sighing appreciatively as his hands work over his hips and thighs.]
Little better...
[He says it with an exaggerated pout, thighs parting when prompted, the flush of his skin fading as he's coaxed with kisses. He rocks back against Lan Zhan invitingly; it's hard to let even a false sense of anger linger, especially when he'd begged Lan Zhan to be a more demanding lover.]
[ With Wei Ying's legs spread like two pleats of a fan, Lan Wangji feels his breath hitch as he bites back a moan, longing to capture within his mind the exact way the light hits his skin, the creamy color of his thighs, the way his lips part over a sigh. He's gorgeous, and he's all Lan Wangji's to claim.
Gently, with one hand continuing the massage of his thighs and his hips and the lovely round of his ass, Lan Wangji pauses just to get a little more massage oil on his other fingers. As the perfume has started to permeate the bed, he supposes he might forever associate the scent to this lovemaking, but it hardly matters. He presses a finger gently into Wei Ying, slick and warm.
As it turns out, this is much easier than their more alternative method, and Lan Wangji is quickly pumping one finger in and out of him, hoping that this part will someday become more pleasurable to him than invasive. ]
[Lan Zhan has been waiting so patiently, and even now, he continues the slow, indulgent massage. It reminds him easily of the time they'd spent in the hotel's spa, treading delicately around one another as he tried to pretend it wasn't everything he'd wanted.
As a finger begins to work its way inside him, he can't help but notice how much easier it is, thankfully slicker than the crude mess of spit and his own cum. It's still sensitive, intrusive, and he lowers his head, reminding his body to relax, growing accustomed to the faint burn of muscle being worked open. Much as he enjoys Lan Zhan's rough and wild side in the bedroom, this takes him apart just as well. It isn't long at all before he's rocking back against his hand, tongue flicking over his lips in anticipation.]
[ They have plenty of time for Lan Wangji to be a little rough, but right now he takes his time, because the more comfortable he is now, the easier it can be for him to fuck him absolutely senseless later. His lone digit is quickly joined by another, slowly at first, but resuming their task simulating a larger insertion as soon as he feels Wei Ying's body acclimate.
He crooks his fingers forward, his mouth depositing little kisses on his jaw like the many offerings he'd once burned for Wei Ying, hoping they'd reach him in heaven. This, he thinks, where he's sure they reach him, where he gets immediate feedback, is much better.
More easily, more quickly this time, he's fucking Wei Ying on three fingers, propping his body slightly up just so he can get a good view of where they slide in and out of him, the sight of it making his cock twitch in absolute interest. ]
You're so good for me, aren't you?
[ He bites his lower lip, and looks for a bundle of nerves within Wei Ying, that he had discovered last time, that he wishes to uncover every day for as long as they both can. ]
[It takes a concentrated effort to relax as Lan Zhan's fingers began to work him open. He couldn't help but tighten occasionally, when Lan Zhan touched him just so, crooking those fingers inside him or when the burn started to become too much, too fast. He never asked Lan Zhan to stop, or slow down though, his body communicating instead through sharp breaths and hushed whimpers.
Overwhelming as it was, he still tried to help, tried to open his legs a bit further, to cant his hips upward. As a third finger worked its way inside, and Lan Zhan began searching, Wei Wuxian wasn't shy in his responses, rewarding him with pleased moans of:]
[ All these noises are sweet notes that play a symphony and move Lan Wangji, mouthing against Wei Ying's neck mostly to lathe the skin there with the flat of his tongue, his fingers relentlessly pushing in at that angle that makes him moan. ]
Perfect.
[ The word gets mostly swallowed up in his mouth pressed against Wei Ying's skin. His lips start to get a little restless, and leave love-bites that will turn into bruises tomorrow, and mark Wei Ying. He could think of nothing better tomorrow, than to see Wei Ying hobble, than to see him carry around little red spots so everyone can see just as clearly as if Lan Wangji had tied a ribbon around his wrist. ]
You're perfect.
[ He shifts them, then, guiding Wei Ying fully onto his back, settling in between his legs. He withdraws his fingers and then uses them to once again, cover his cock with the massage oil, to give his entrance another generous coating of it.
Only when he's satisfied, does he move into position. With his arms hooked one underneath each of Wei Ying's knees, Lan Wangji pulls him roughly forward on the bed to get him closer, bedsprings creaking underneath the sudden jerk, and then guides himself properly inward. ]
[Despite his efforts, Wei Wuxian has always considered himself a terribly flawed human being. That Lan Zhan can see perfection, even if it's just in the way their bodies fit together, it only drives him on, hoping to please him ever more. The apple of his throat hitches against Lan Zhan's tongue, reminiscent of prey before a predator and he makes another soft whimpering noise against his open mouth.
The bites are like the sting of spice against his tongue and he savors the feeling of each, as they're peppered over his body. Lan Zhan pulls him forward, shifting him on to his back, and he makes quite a sight, hair fanned out messily behind him, hands fisted haphazardly in the sheets near his head, looking thoroughly debauched.
While it's not without the now-familiar stretch of muscle as Lan Zhan begins, the motion feels much smoother, the slick slide of the oil easing the way. There's still a gasp of staggered breath and a reflexive tightening around his cock as he presses in.]
[ Lan Wangji feels the resistance against the penetration, but somehow with the way Wei Ying is arguing with his own body just to let Lan Wangji in because he wants and because he wants to please, it makes him grow harder still. His head and heart are swimming in a euphoric daze, as if his spirit is seeping out at the edges, unable to be contained by his form.
He breathes his stuttered breaths into Wei Ying's mouth, an inch away from a kiss, but satisfied in just drinking in his exhaled breaths. ]
Then... never leave.
[ He sinks into Wei Ying, slowly, and withdraws, slowly, and slams his hips back against the back of his thighs, one swift motion. It's raw, and possessive, his eyes boring through the haze. ]
Promise me.
[ He repeats the move, hips just as hard as they'd been, just as desperate to hear that Wei Ying needs him as much as the other way around. Not just this body, this gorgeous body beneath him waiting and begging to be fucked senseless, but also the rest of him; he wants Wei Ying's heart and soul to want just as badly to be claimed, to belong to him. ]
[His lashes flutter as Lan Zhan slowly pushes in, his breath shaky where their mouths almost meet.]
I...
[He starts, as Lan Zhan pulls out slowly, but his answer is cut off, as he thrusts roughly back in. Instead he just cries out, hands balling into tight fists. He bites the corner of his lower lip, tasting blood on his tongue as Lan Zhan pulls out slowly once again.]
L-Lan Zhan please, I-
[Another whimper as Lan Zhan's hips snap against his, the sound of skin slapping together harsh in the quiet of Lan Zhan's room.]
-Promise, I promise!
[His voice is breathy and rough, body still adjusting to the feel of Lan Zhan inside him, hard and hot. He finally seems to find reason, and slips a hand around the back of Lan Zhan's neck, closing that small distance between their lips.]
[ He promises, and Lan Wangji feels his heart spill into that kiss, all at once, licking up what remnants of blood there is in his mouth, giving his lower lip a quick nibble. Sated with the promise, he rocks his hips gently against Wei Ying's, lacing their fingers.
He does pick up the pace, just the slightest, propping himself up a tiny bit just to get the angle right; they might not be able to kiss like this but with their hands together and with the sight of Wei Ying underneath of him, Lan Wangji isn't sure he'd prefer the alternative.
He's beautiful. He's beautiful and he hardly believes it, probably hasn't looked in a mirror in too long. With his free hand, he intends to just cup Wei Ying's face, get a better look into his eyes, but the current state of his dexterity means that he instead manages to slip his fingers against Wei Ying's kiss-rouged lips and against the velvet of his tongue.
He groans at the sight, and his hips start to grind against Wei Ying's, greedy for those noises that spill from his throat. ]
[Lan Zhan's thrusts become gentler, as if rewarding him for his obedience, and he gives a soft moan against his lips as they meet. The taste of copper diminishes, replaced with the warmth of his tongue, and the faint remnants of their earlier tea. Even that small brush of teeth feels electric, and he squeezes Lan Zhan's hand where their fingers twine together, their bodies rocking in unison.
When Lan Zhan shifts again, each sway of his hips presses up inside him, massaging its way over those sensitive nerve endings that make his back arch and his toes curl. With no lips to press his satisfaction into, his moans grow louder, punctuated by each motion.]
Lan Zha- Lan Er-gege... I... mm-
[His vision feels hazy, as Lan Zhan looks down at him, drunk on this feeling, so much sweeter than any wine could hope to be. His parted lips yield easily to the intrusion and he turns his head toward them, sucking on the tips, tongue moving experimentally against them. His teeth graze the pads of his fingers as Lan Zhan starts to grind against him in earnest, and he cries out, voice rough and lusty.]
[ He doesn't know whether he prefers the sight of Wei Ying mewling his names so sweetly, or crying out for him as the pleasures of his body overrides the words of his mind. Lucky him, that he shouldn't need to choose, holding onto Wei Ying's thighs as his hips start to snap against him, sounds of skin on skin honestly just as sharp as before when he'd struck the flesh with his hand.
And yet, he supposes, if Wei Ying has any complaint about this, it's probably buried in his body underneath the moaning, underneath his body's natural responses.
He tries to move his fingers away but doesn't make it very far, fingers and thumb on his pulse, gently wrapping around the sides of his neck in a choke, though he's careful to rest his palm on his collar and not his throat. Lan Wangji holds him down and rocks into him like this, hips as if chasing vengeance, his heart possessively repeating, mine, mine, mine.
In this way, with the canting of his hips and the bruises that will form tomorrow on his throat and chest, Lan Wangji wonders if Wei Ying will still doubt his desires. He supposes, should that happen, he will have to try harder to ruin his gait and mottle his skin, until he is truly and fully satisfied. ]
[The sharp slap of skin on skin returns, as Lan Zhan holds him roughly, and fucks him relentlessly. His cries increase in both volume and pitch, that faint sting of pain amid pleasure addictive.
The pressure against his throat isn't enough to cut off his air, but his pulse thrums heavy and hard against Lan Zhan's hand. There's a growing dizziness, and he makes a helpless noise, the sound muffled slightly in his throat. It's not an unfamiliar sensation, for as many times as he's been knocked around, throttled, and choked by his enemies, and even his own family members, but it's probably the first time it's felt any sort of enjoyable, that he hasn't felt like his life might be snuffed out by a cold hand. Instead it felt warm, possessive, and hungry, even as his vision began to grow blurry, little spots around the edges.]
Lan Zhan... I-
[His hand rises, just enough to brush Lan Zhan's wrist, to rest gently against the hand on his throat. His mouth still curves in a faint smile.]
[ Wei Ying holds his wrist to his throat and oh, the gesture is sweet. He feels overcome by emotion in this moment, that Wei Ying isn't intimidated by his possessiveness, and invites him to selfishness, to roughness, to a physical representation of the words he can't say: I love you, I want you, I missed you, I died with you.
He'd waited and waited for sixteen years for someone else to come strike a flame in his heart, but he'd already known a place by Wei Ying's side close to Heaven, and nothing else could compare.
Lan Wangji drives into him with the hunger of a man starved, back bowed over Wei Ying as he drops to an elbow for support, breathing ragged breaths as he pleasure wracks through him and sets his skin alight. He calls for Wei Ying, two, three times, punctuated by stops and starts and grunts.
And he squeezes, just a little bit harder, moving his hand upwards to tilt Wei Ying's head back and pull him taught like stringing his instrument, messily mouthing at his cheek in an attempt to kiss him. ]
[It's impossible to match the punishing strength of Lan Zhan's body against his, skin already pink and tender in places that would surely bruise later, littering his body with the evidence of their affection. It's not that he regrets asking Lan Zhan to be more selfish, but the intensity of that newfound freedom shakes him. He's always been shameless, can he really be surprised at how his body reacts to this too?
He hears his name, again and again, and it's almost too much; he writhes and twists beneath Lan Zhan, a light sheen of sweat on his bare skin. He arches up against him, muscles drawn tight as Lan Zhan's fingers sink into the soft flesh of his throat; what was once dancing spots in his vision, is now a slowly closing tunnel as his head tilts back, and what ought to be a desperate wail is muted and rough against that pressure.
There's a wet heat against his cheek, and he tries to turn toward it, as much as that hand against his neck will allow, Lan Zhan's name a barely audible whisper on his lips.]
[ His calls grow in desperation, and it's likely Wei Ying can only hear them from the proximity, as all else is drowned out by the sound of their skin, by the sound of the groans of the mattress below them.
Almost suddenly, Lan Wangji hoists himself up on his hands, and pulls out of him, letting go of his neck to draw a hand down his front, head tilted back at the sight, pupils blown wide and lips parted. The bruises are coming in, and with Wei Ying's hair a mess and spit on his cheek, sweaty and flushed, he looks absolutely debauched. Wrecked. Gorgeous.
It won't take long for Lan Wangji to explain what it is he's doing or why he's stopped, because he pats Wei Ying on the thigh and gently guides him to move over onto his knees. He'll have Wei Ying from any angle and any position he possibly can, make love to him so thoroughly he would forget all else in the world save for the immediate vicinity of this bed. ]
[His mind can hardly register the words, feeling hazy and sluggish, and when Lan Zhan lets up, trailing a hand down his chest, he's already heaving in dizzy breaths. Blood rushes where it had previously been a slow trickle, gathering angry-red where bruises will cover his body like a canvas in bright colors.
He sees black for a moment, letting out a choked off sound, body shivering as Lan Zhan pulls out. His thighs tremble, barely able to hold them up without Lan Zhan's hands on them, and between them, his already overstimulated and sensitive cock starts to twitch with interest, body thrilling at these new sensations.]
Lan Zhan...
[His voice comes out so raw, as he tries to push himself up enough to follow Lan Zhan's lead. There's no trickle of fluids down his bare thighs, Lan Zhan still hasn't found his release yet. Is it good? He wants it to be good for him, maybe he's waiting, showing that famous restraint so associated with the Lans.
He moves to his knees, thighs apart and back a low arch as he clings to a stray pillow, head low.]
Your hands... feel so good Lan Zhan. Are you... having fun?
[ Lan Wangji appreciates the sight laid out before him, Wei Ying with his legs spread and his ass high, presenting himself, eagerly awaiting him. Lan Wangji hasn't found release yet but he's close, pauses like this so he can buy more time.
He lays a hand on the rounds of creamy-white, with the back of his thighs blushed, giving him the impression of a ripe peach. And he gently prods Wei Ying's entrance with more slick, eyes drawn directly to the now dark-pink ring of muscle where his fingers press, so that he nearly doesn't register Wei Ying's question.
He would have thought it obvious, but apparently someone requires some more convincing. ]
Mm. You feel good. You make me feel good, Wei Ying.
[ Lan Wangji shifts on the bed to position himself, before sheathing himself in Wei Ying. He needs a moment to regain his composure, gasped breath escaping from his lips, body stilled in some form of shock, heat coursing through him once more.
Wei Ying said he'd liked his hands, and so he moves Wei Ying's hair aside and presses a hand on the back of his neck like he had done once at the hotel in giving him a massage. The tension then had been palpable, and if he'd known that the next time he'd get this view would be like this, he would've extended their stay and ordered the spa staff to leave well enough alone.
Though he peppers light kisses on Wei Ying's shoulder, his hips practically resume how they were before the interruption, hard and fast and relentless. That Wei Ying is hard again, leads Wangji's free hand between their legs, holding him firm, helping him along. ]
[He can feel the slide of fresh oil, fingers working around his stretched hole, twitching lewdly. He's still trying to catch his breath, glad he doesn't have to try to stand, on legs that feel soft and shaky.
Lan Zhan re-enters him with a single slide, and he makes a muffled groan into the pillow, turning his head and panting lightly. It's a little disappointing, he thinks briefly, that he can't reach to touch Lan Zhan in return, run his hands through his hair, or meet those kisses, but those thoughts vanish, as Lan Zhan returns to the punishing roll of his hips, and somehow it feels deeper, more intense, each rutting thrust a stinging slap against his ass.
As if that weren't overwhelming enough, Lan Zhan's hand on his dick has him practically incoherent, almost sobbing as he clings to pillow and sheets and anything else he can grasp. Overextended muscles still tight, despite how wrecked he feels.]
Lan Zha- Er-ge- mm-... I-... I can't- please-... wait- I-...
[ It does feel deeper, and it's slightly easier to move his hips this way, though it might be due to the change in position. He doesn't know, and he doesn't think about it too hard, because he's too busy trying to fuck all these noises and sounds out of Wei Ying, each strangled sound and stuttered mess and jumble of words hit his heart like poetry, even if it makes no sense. He fills in the gaps with words of his own. ]
Wei Ying... you can. You're so good. So good for me--
[ His voice sounds as if it's being dragged over gravel, husky and low, half-clipped by his kisses turning into bites at Wei Ying's shoulder. His hand's migrated to his hair, fisting it at the root, pushing him down hard into the pillow as his hips keep their cruel pace; his teeth sink into Wei Ying's skin as his mouth lies agape, moans and grunts stifled half into silk. ]
C-lose...
[ He barely makes out the word, breath hitched, brows knit, sweat pooling down his back. It's a warning he issues in case Wei Ying doesn't want him to finish, not yet. Though, with enough willpower, Lan Wangji would fuck Wei Ying raw and senseless, if that was what he wanted, if that was what he wished. Again and again until he fell numb, until they lost track of hours or days, confined to bed, feasting only on this. ]
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His tongue delves into Wei Ying's because he feels no more whole than when he can be imparted into him, physically, emotionally, connected to him in this way. His lips are so soft, both body and mouth so pliant, so eager to be molded and sculpted and entirely devoured. He withdraws his tongue, only to worry Wei Ying's bottom lip with his teeth, breaking to command into his mouth: ]
Come for me.
[ He collects every single hair-tug, catalogues all his moans and his shivers, adds them to the ever-growing shrine in his heart overtaken entirely by Wei Ying. Wonders how good he must have been in a past life, how Godly, to deserve a future of every night, pleasing his husband. And occasionally, or more than occasionally, pleasing his husband twice. ]
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He tries to chase after, despite how his breath is coming faster, but Lan Zhan's whispered demand hits him and he's never wanted so badly to do as he's told. Does Lan Zhan have any idea what his voice does? How he can say such things and be so effortlessly and absolutely devastating? The words have barely left Hanguang Jun's mouth before Wei Wuxian is grinding his hips against his hand, and it's only a handful of seconds before he fulfills that whispered request.
His head falls back, exposing the long and pale column of his neck, now peppered with the evidence of Lan Zhan's affection. His name is an urgent whisper that grows into a cry as Wei Wuxian comes between them, his once tight and tense muscles relaxing as his breath quickly rises and falls.]
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He steals one more heated kiss before he moves out from between Wei Ying's legs and lifts his hips so that his lower half is lying on its side, and presses up against his back. Wei Ying will never have to ask how Lan Wangji would like to take his pleasure. His completely ignored cock is hard and impatient against his ass as Lan Wangji roughly grabs at a cheek and then, upon withdrawal, cups his hand and gives him a good hard smack. He does love the sound of skin hitting skin, and how the pale skin starts to blush a peachy pink. ]
Wei Ying, top drawer.
[ Inside, he's hidden a vial of massage oil that he'd taken from the spa. He figures it'd be easier to use that, and possibly would also feel slightly less painful as one of its more intended uses. ]
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He's about to tease Lan Zhan about how it'll surely bruise, but instead, he receives a hard smack across his backside. The lewd sound he makes is not nearly so shamed and offended as he feels, and that's probably the worst part of all! He's stunned quiet for a moment, a hand flying to cover his mouth as a deep scarlet flush grows over his skin. He'd wanted Lan Zhan to be more selfish, sure, but he hadn't meant- not like that!]
Lan Zhan, h-hey, that... that stings you know?
[He looks contrite for probably the first time in his life. Even the large wooden paddles in Cloud Recesses were only for swatting them across the back! To have his ass slapped like a wayward child is... is way more embarrassing than it has any right to be.
He scrambles to reach for the drawer, hoping if he behaves, perhaps another won't follow. His eyes scan the contents for a moment before falling on the vial of oil and he hurries to grab it, then turns to hand it to Lan Zhan.]
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Let me massage it better.
[ He uncaps the oil and lets it drip all over his fingers, warming up the liquid in his hands, before dipping his hands below and actually massaging the general area, his fingers seeking out and rubbing against soft skin. He doesn't press too hard, just dissolving some of the oil into the back of his thighs and the swell of his ass, before he nudges Wei Ying's legs apart. ]
Does it still sting?
[ His breath is slightly ragged, rough underneath Wei Ying's jaw, every once in awhile leaving a possessive kiss to his throat. ]
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Little better...
[He says it with an exaggerated pout, thighs parting when prompted, the flush of his skin fading as he's coaxed with kisses. He rocks back against Lan Zhan invitingly; it's hard to let even a false sense of anger linger, especially when he'd begged Lan Zhan to be a more demanding lover.]
Mm... Feels nice Lan Zhan... just like that...
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Gently, with one hand continuing the massage of his thighs and his hips and the lovely round of his ass, Lan Wangji pauses just to get a little more massage oil on his other fingers. As the perfume has started to permeate the bed, he supposes he might forever associate the scent to this lovemaking, but it hardly matters. He presses a finger gently into Wei Ying, slick and warm.
As it turns out, this is much easier than their more alternative method, and Lan Wangji is quickly pumping one finger in and out of him, hoping that this part will someday become more pleasurable to him than invasive. ]
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As a finger begins to work its way inside him, he can't help but notice how much easier it is, thankfully slicker than the crude mess of spit and his own cum. It's still sensitive, intrusive, and he lowers his head, reminding his body to relax, growing accustomed to the faint burn of muscle being worked open. Much as he enjoys Lan Zhan's rough and wild side in the bedroom, this takes him apart just as well. It isn't long at all before he's rocking back against his hand, tongue flicking over his lips in anticipation.]
Keep going. Lan Zhan... want you...
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He crooks his fingers forward, his mouth depositing little kisses on his jaw like the many offerings he'd once burned for Wei Ying, hoping they'd reach him in heaven. This, he thinks, where he's sure they reach him, where he gets immediate feedback, is much better.
More easily, more quickly this time, he's fucking Wei Ying on three fingers, propping his body slightly up just so he can get a good view of where they slide in and out of him, the sight of it making his cock twitch in absolute interest. ]
You're so good for me, aren't you?
[ He bites his lower lip, and looks for a bundle of nerves within Wei Ying, that he had discovered last time, that he wishes to uncover every day for as long as they both can. ]
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Overwhelming as it was, he still tried to help, tried to open his legs a bit further, to cant his hips upward. As a third finger worked its way inside, and Lan Zhan began searching, Wei Wuxian wasn't shy in his responses, rewarding him with pleased moans of:]
So good, please-! Yes- ah-
[And:]
There, right- there.
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Perfect.
[ The word gets mostly swallowed up in his mouth pressed against Wei Ying's skin. His lips start to get a little restless, and leave love-bites that will turn into bruises tomorrow, and mark Wei Ying. He could think of nothing better tomorrow, than to see Wei Ying hobble, than to see him carry around little red spots so everyone can see just as clearly as if Lan Wangji had tied a ribbon around his wrist. ]
You're perfect.
[ He shifts them, then, guiding Wei Ying fully onto his back, settling in between his legs. He withdraws his fingers and then uses them to once again, cover his cock with the massage oil, to give his entrance another generous coating of it.
Only when he's satisfied, does he move into position. With his arms hooked one underneath each of Wei Ying's knees, Lan Wangji pulls him roughly forward on the bed to get him closer, bedsprings creaking underneath the sudden jerk, and then guides himself properly inward. ]
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The bites are like the sting of spice against his tongue and he savors the feeling of each, as they're peppered over his body. Lan Zhan pulls him forward, shifting him on to his back, and he makes quite a sight, hair fanned out messily behind him, hands fisted haphazardly in the sheets near his head, looking thoroughly debauched.
While it's not without the now-familiar stretch of muscle as Lan Zhan begins, the motion feels much smoother, the slick slide of the oil easing the way. There's still a gasp of staggered breath and a reflexive tightening around his cock as he presses in.]
That's... because you fit me so well.
[He smiles up, body flushed and waiting.]
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He breathes his stuttered breaths into Wei Ying's mouth, an inch away from a kiss, but satisfied in just drinking in his exhaled breaths. ]
Then... never leave.
[ He sinks into Wei Ying, slowly, and withdraws, slowly, and slams his hips back against the back of his thighs, one swift motion. It's raw, and possessive, his eyes boring through the haze. ]
Promise me.
[ He repeats the move, hips just as hard as they'd been, just as desperate to hear that Wei Ying needs him as much as the other way around. Not just this body, this gorgeous body beneath him waiting and begging to be fucked senseless, but also the rest of him; he wants Wei Ying's heart and soul to want just as badly to be claimed, to belong to him. ]
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I...
[He starts, as Lan Zhan pulls out slowly, but his answer is cut off, as he thrusts roughly back in. Instead he just cries out, hands balling into tight fists. He bites the corner of his lower lip, tasting blood on his tongue as Lan Zhan pulls out slowly once again.]
L-Lan Zhan please, I-
[Another whimper as Lan Zhan's hips snap against his, the sound of skin slapping together harsh in the quiet of Lan Zhan's room.]
-Promise, I promise!
[His voice is breathy and rough, body still adjusting to the feel of Lan Zhan inside him, hard and hot. He finally seems to find reason, and slips a hand around the back of Lan Zhan's neck, closing that small distance between their lips.]
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He does pick up the pace, just the slightest, propping himself up a tiny bit just to get the angle right; they might not be able to kiss like this but with their hands together and with the sight of Wei Ying underneath of him, Lan Wangji isn't sure he'd prefer the alternative.
He's beautiful. He's beautiful and he hardly believes it, probably hasn't looked in a mirror in too long. With his free hand, he intends to just cup Wei Ying's face, get a better look into his eyes, but the current state of his dexterity means that he instead manages to slip his fingers against Wei Ying's kiss-rouged lips and against the velvet of his tongue.
He groans at the sight, and his hips start to grind against Wei Ying's, greedy for those noises that spill from his throat. ]
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When Lan Zhan shifts again, each sway of his hips presses up inside him, massaging its way over those sensitive nerve endings that make his back arch and his toes curl. With no lips to press his satisfaction into, his moans grow louder, punctuated by each motion.]
Lan Zha- Lan Er-gege... I... mm-
[His vision feels hazy, as Lan Zhan looks down at him, drunk on this feeling, so much sweeter than any wine could hope to be. His parted lips yield easily to the intrusion and he turns his head toward them, sucking on the tips, tongue moving experimentally against them. His teeth graze the pads of his fingers as Lan Zhan starts to grind against him in earnest, and he cries out, voice rough and lusty.]
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And yet, he supposes, if Wei Ying has any complaint about this, it's probably buried in his body underneath the moaning, underneath his body's natural responses.
He tries to move his fingers away but doesn't make it very far, fingers and thumb on his pulse, gently wrapping around the sides of his neck in a choke, though he's careful to rest his palm on his collar and not his throat. Lan Wangji holds him down and rocks into him like this, hips as if chasing vengeance, his heart possessively repeating, mine, mine, mine.
In this way, with the canting of his hips and the bruises that will form tomorrow on his throat and chest, Lan Wangji wonders if Wei Ying will still doubt his desires. He supposes, should that happen, he will have to try harder to ruin his gait and mottle his skin, until he is truly and fully satisfied. ]
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The pressure against his throat isn't enough to cut off his air, but his pulse thrums heavy and hard against Lan Zhan's hand. There's a growing dizziness, and he makes a helpless noise, the sound muffled slightly in his throat. It's not an unfamiliar sensation, for as many times as he's been knocked around, throttled, and choked by his enemies, and even his own family members, but it's probably the first time it's felt any sort of enjoyable, that he hasn't felt like his life might be snuffed out by a cold hand. Instead it felt warm, possessive, and hungry, even as his vision began to grow blurry, little spots around the edges.]
Lan Zhan... I-
[His hand rises, just enough to brush Lan Zhan's wrist, to rest gently against the hand on his throat. His mouth still curves in a faint smile.]
-I won't leave...
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He'd waited and waited for sixteen years for someone else to come strike a flame in his heart, but he'd already known a place by Wei Ying's side close to Heaven, and nothing else could compare.
Lan Wangji drives into him with the hunger of a man starved, back bowed over Wei Ying as he drops to an elbow for support, breathing ragged breaths as he pleasure wracks through him and sets his skin alight. He calls for Wei Ying, two, three times, punctuated by stops and starts and grunts.
And he squeezes, just a little bit harder, moving his hand upwards to tilt Wei Ying's head back and pull him taught like stringing his instrument, messily mouthing at his cheek in an attempt to kiss him. ]
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He hears his name, again and again, and it's almost too much; he writhes and twists beneath Lan Zhan, a light sheen of sweat on his bare skin. He arches up against him, muscles drawn tight as Lan Zhan's fingers sink into the soft flesh of his throat; what was once dancing spots in his vision, is now a slowly closing tunnel as his head tilts back, and what ought to be a desperate wail is muted and rough against that pressure.
There's a wet heat against his cheek, and he tries to turn toward it, as much as that hand against his neck will allow, Lan Zhan's name a barely audible whisper on his lips.]
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[ His calls grow in desperation, and it's likely Wei Ying can only hear them from the proximity, as all else is drowned out by the sound of their skin, by the sound of the groans of the mattress below them.
Almost suddenly, Lan Wangji hoists himself up on his hands, and pulls out of him, letting go of his neck to draw a hand down his front, head tilted back at the sight, pupils blown wide and lips parted. The bruises are coming in, and with Wei Ying's hair a mess and spit on his cheek, sweaty and flushed, he looks absolutely debauched. Wrecked. Gorgeous.
It won't take long for Lan Wangji to explain what it is he's doing or why he's stopped, because he pats Wei Ying on the thigh and gently guides him to move over onto his knees. He'll have Wei Ying from any angle and any position he possibly can, make love to him so thoroughly he would forget all else in the world save for the immediate vicinity of this bed. ]
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He sees black for a moment, letting out a choked off sound, body shivering as Lan Zhan pulls out. His thighs tremble, barely able to hold them up without Lan Zhan's hands on them, and between them, his already overstimulated and sensitive cock starts to twitch with interest, body thrilling at these new sensations.]
Lan Zhan...
[His voice comes out so raw, as he tries to push himself up enough to follow Lan Zhan's lead. There's no trickle of fluids down his bare thighs, Lan Zhan still hasn't found his release yet. Is it good? He wants it to be good for him, maybe he's waiting, showing that famous restraint so associated with the Lans.
He moves to his knees, thighs apart and back a low arch as he clings to a stray pillow, head low.]
Your hands... feel so good Lan Zhan. Are you... having fun?
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He lays a hand on the rounds of creamy-white, with the back of his thighs blushed, giving him the impression of a ripe peach. And he gently prods Wei Ying's entrance with more slick, eyes drawn directly to the now dark-pink ring of muscle where his fingers press, so that he nearly doesn't register Wei Ying's question.
He would have thought it obvious, but apparently someone requires some more convincing. ]
Mm. You feel good. You make me feel good, Wei Ying.
[ Lan Wangji shifts on the bed to position himself, before sheathing himself in Wei Ying. He needs a moment to regain his composure, gasped breath escaping from his lips, body stilled in some form of shock, heat coursing through him once more.
Wei Ying said he'd liked his hands, and so he moves Wei Ying's hair aside and presses a hand on the back of his neck like he had done once at the hotel in giving him a massage. The tension then had been palpable, and if he'd known that the next time he'd get this view would be like this, he would've extended their stay and ordered the spa staff to leave well enough alone.
Though he peppers light kisses on Wei Ying's shoulder, his hips practically resume how they were before the interruption, hard and fast and relentless. That Wei Ying is hard again, leads Wangji's free hand between their legs, holding him firm, helping him along. ]
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Lan Zhan re-enters him with a single slide, and he makes a muffled groan into the pillow, turning his head and panting lightly. It's a little disappointing, he thinks briefly, that he can't reach to touch Lan Zhan in return, run his hands through his hair, or meet those kisses, but those thoughts vanish, as Lan Zhan returns to the punishing roll of his hips, and somehow it feels deeper, more intense, each rutting thrust a stinging slap against his ass.
As if that weren't overwhelming enough, Lan Zhan's hand on his dick has him practically incoherent, almost sobbing as he clings to pillow and sheets and anything else he can grasp. Overextended muscles still tight, despite how wrecked he feels.]
Lan Zha- Er-ge- mm-... I-... I can't- please-... wait- I-...
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Wei Ying... you can. You're so good. So good for me--
[ His voice sounds as if it's being dragged over gravel, husky and low, half-clipped by his kisses turning into bites at Wei Ying's shoulder. His hand's migrated to his hair, fisting it at the root, pushing him down hard into the pillow as his hips keep their cruel pace; his teeth sink into Wei Ying's skin as his mouth lies agape, moans and grunts stifled half into silk. ]
C-lose...
[ He barely makes out the word, breath hitched, brows knit, sweat pooling down his back. It's a warning he issues in case Wei Ying doesn't want him to finish, not yet. Though, with enough willpower, Lan Wangji would fuck Wei Ying raw and senseless, if that was what he wanted, if that was what he wished. Again and again until he fell numb, until they lost track of hours or days, confined to bed, feasting only on this. ]
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