[ 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. ]
[It's not enough that Lan Zhan can keep up the unrelenting pace, his skin stinging with each smack of flesh against flesh, but he continues to raise the stakes. Just when Wei Wuxian is sure he can't keep going, that it's too much, he's given a sharp reminder of how much more it can be.
He cries out when his hair is yanked, eyes beginning to water and tear up. Not that it much matters, with his face buried in the pillow, a heavy pressure against his neck, and his hair still held in a tight fist; the silk quickly becoming a mess of tears and saliva as he moans himself hoarse against it.
His hips shudder weakly, even as he tries to buck against Lan Zhan's hand. It's so hard to take a breath, pressed as he is, but his struggles are unsteady at best, hands unable to grasp anything but sheets beneath them. He almost doesn't register Lan Zhan's softly spoken words, and even then, it's difficult to reply with anything but a faint nod, his voice a muffled whine.]
[ Wei Ying is a mess underneath him, a glorious, incredible mess, making Lan Wangji's heart race with adrenaline, filling his arms and all the cavernous parts of his embrace and his soul.
Once, he'd resigned himself to being alone for the remainder of what might be a long, tortured life ahead. Where he felt whole was when he was with people he loves, Sizhui and Xichen and, alright, sometimes Jingyi. But then, at night, when he was in his solitude, he would be alone again, only echoes and hauntings to keep him company.
Wei Ying is the other half of him, this, he is sure. They are soulmates, two sides of one coin, two stars circling each other in orbit.
Tears sting the corner of his eyes as he considers that this is what their lives will be like, for the rest of forever. That if he should ever feel incomplete, he will only have to listen for the steady drumbeat of the heart lying on top of his own.
His hips start to lose control of their cadence, and with a few more thrusts, he comes with Wei Ying's name uttered on his lips, hot tears staining his back, ropes of white liquid spilling deep into him.
And when he is completely spent, he once more lays kisses against Wei Ying's neck and strokes him languidly in a haze of fatigue. ]
[He's not sure how much longer he can hold on, muscles tight, back bent as it is, hips raised, skin raw and red and tingling. But he feels it, as Lan Zhan falters behind him, a rush of heat between them follows. It's enough to leave him panting and desperate for breath as soon as the fist at the back of his neck eases.
He wouldn't mind so much, overtaxed as his body feels, if Lan Zhan wanted to wait a bit longer before helping him finish. But only a few moments pass before he's once again squirming beneath, still tight where their bodies intertwine. He makes a rough mewling sound against Lan Zhan's hand as he feels gentle kisses press over his thoroughly abused skin. His hand tries to reach back and he can't decide if he wants to spur those motions on, or slow them to a halt.]
[ The only thing better to Lan Wangji here than his own release is Wei Ying's, watching him finish, watching his whole body shake apart under his touch. And so his ministrations continue, breath hot at his neck. His hand, now freed from his hair, spreads across the front of his stomach and holds them together. ]
Wei Ying... Ha...
[ Despite feeling spent, and over-sensitive, he slowly moves his hips back and forth to continue some semblance of the motion from before, so long as his cock hasn't softened quite yet, so long as he's still able to pleasure his husband-to-be.
Eventually, when he can't take it anymore, he pulls entirely out of him, and falls back, though he hooks an arm around Wei Ying to pull him backward on top of him. He can't get enough, can't keep his hands or his mouth or his mind off of him. ]
[He'd thought Lan Zhan had finished, but he gasps as he ruts against him a few more times before pulling out, mess dribbling from both his abused entrance and his gently throbbing cock.
It's with some relief that Lan Zhan pulls him back against him, lays down on the bed, but even so, he's relentless as he strokes him, bringing him ever closer. He leans back, head resting in that curve of Lan Zhan's shoulder, lolling back to expose his neck. He raises a hand weakly, knuckles brushing his lover's cheek in a gesture that's both gentle and appreciative.]
Lan Zhan, mm-
[His voice is a bare whisper, rough and spent as he writhes against Lan Zhan's hand.]
Promise I won't- ah- doubt how much fun mm- oh- you're having... ever again.
[ Lan Wangji tips up Wei Ying's chin as he turns his face to suckle a kiss at his neck, as if he needed any more red and purple flowers blooming on his skin in the morning. With his legs, he forces Wei Ying's thighs further apart, stroking him at a steady pace, pausing only to wet his fingers in the mess he'd made.
He could honestly keep going like this, finding new ways to please Wei Ying even after he releases a second time. But like limiting himself to no more than three bowls per meal, he thinks perhaps after this, he will just let Wei Ying bask lazily and pleasantly numb in afterglow.
But that's getting ahead of himself. ]
I will still prove that I do.
[ He gives the underside of Wei Ying's jaw a little nibble. ]
[Wei Wuxian is sure he'll be a mottled mess as soon as all the bruises and bites have had time to settle in. He's left little of his skin unmarked in his amorous devotion. His thighs burn at the stretch, twitching each time Lan Zhan rubs him just so, the slick mess almost soothing where he feels raw.
He's already leaking, fluid dribbling down onto his flat stomach. It seems unfair, now that they're grown, that Lan Zhan knows all the places he's weak, where Wei Wuxian had once been the one to rile him up into little fits of emotion. But each touch and nibble and rough caress that continued, even after he came, was proof enough he was enjoying every bit of Wei Wuxian's body.]
Every day?
[His voice almost cracks on the word, hips stuttering against his hand. He doesn't doubt Lan Zhan has the stamina, but he's not sure his own body can take it, at least not if he expects Wei Wuxian to still be up before noon.]
[ Now that the majority of sounds between them include the very wet slick sounds of Wangji's hand on Wei Ying's cock, his other hand is free to explore with curiosity the grooves of his stomach and the little sloping swells of his chest.
His body is unfairly smooth, freed of its old scars, beautiful and new. But Wangji has laid claim, has at least helped it get a little bit broken in. He hopes nothing else can touch it, not fire nor blade to skin. But if Wei Ying wishes it, he won't come to pray every day at his temple. ]
Is Wei Ying not having fun?
[ He doesn't really believe that, perhaps Wei Ying is only teasing. But Lan Wangji would gladly have him every day. Twice a day. ]
[Not having fun? The way his body reacted ought to be enough proof of the contrary on its own, perhaps his moans, his begging, the way he calls his name would suffice. He was always teasing and flirtatious, more so, knowing his feelings were actually returned, but he hadn't put it into words. How could he say aloud that there was rarely a time when he didn't want Lan Zhan to touch him? Didn't want to tease him til Lan Zhan held him down and pressed possessive kisses all over his skin?
His hips gave another shuddering buck into Lan Zhan's hand, thighs tensing as he nears his end, and he let out another whimpering moan. He's too close to string together any sort of eloquence to his words, punctuated as they are by increasingly needy gasps.]
No, I- Yes, I mean- ah Lan Zhan- I- yes... everyday... please...
[ He casually jerks away at Wei Ying's cock, and feeling how close he is, the hand at his torso feels inspired to reach below to give his balls a little tug, to massage them in his palm. ]
Yes?
[ He knows every day is a tall order, but he wants to fully satisfy his husband in every aspect possible. To cook for him, to bathe him, to make love to him daily: these are the easy things. To make sure he feels loved and secured and safe: those are difficult.
But regardless, with his hands around Wei Ying like a harness, and lips against his neck, he feels at the very least, he could offer this. ]
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no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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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He cries out when his hair is yanked, eyes beginning to water and tear up. Not that it much matters, with his face buried in the pillow, a heavy pressure against his neck, and his hair still held in a tight fist; the silk quickly becoming a mess of tears and saliva as he moans himself hoarse against it.
His hips shudder weakly, even as he tries to buck against Lan Zhan's hand. It's so hard to take a breath, pressed as he is, but his struggles are unsteady at best, hands unable to grasp anything but sheets beneath them. He almost doesn't register Lan Zhan's softly spoken words, and even then, it's difficult to reply with anything but a faint nod, his voice a muffled whine.]
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Once, he'd resigned himself to being alone for the remainder of what might be a long, tortured life ahead. Where he felt whole was when he was with people he loves, Sizhui and Xichen and, alright, sometimes Jingyi. But then, at night, when he was in his solitude, he would be alone again, only echoes and hauntings to keep him company.
Wei Ying is the other half of him, this, he is sure. They are soulmates, two sides of one coin, two stars circling each other in orbit.
Tears sting the corner of his eyes as he considers that this is what their lives will be like, for the rest of forever. That if he should ever feel incomplete, he will only have to listen for the steady drumbeat of the heart lying on top of his own.
His hips start to lose control of their cadence, and with a few more thrusts, he comes with Wei Ying's name uttered on his lips, hot tears staining his back, ropes of white liquid spilling deep into him.
And when he is completely spent, he once more lays kisses against Wei Ying's neck and strokes him languidly in a haze of fatigue. ]
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He wouldn't mind so much, overtaxed as his body feels, if Lan Zhan wanted to wait a bit longer before helping him finish. But only a few moments pass before he's once again squirming beneath, still tight where their bodies intertwine. He makes a rough mewling sound against Lan Zhan's hand as he feels gentle kisses press over his thoroughly abused skin. His hand tries to reach back and he can't decide if he wants to spur those motions on, or slow them to a halt.]
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Wei Ying... Ha...
[ Despite feeling spent, and over-sensitive, he slowly moves his hips back and forth to continue some semblance of the motion from before, so long as his cock hasn't softened quite yet, so long as he's still able to pleasure his husband-to-be.
Eventually, when he can't take it anymore, he pulls entirely out of him, and falls back, though he hooks an arm around Wei Ying to pull him backward on top of him. He can't get enough, can't keep his hands or his mouth or his mind off of him. ]
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It's with some relief that Lan Zhan pulls him back against him, lays down on the bed, but even so, he's relentless as he strokes him, bringing him ever closer. He leans back, head resting in that curve of Lan Zhan's shoulder, lolling back to expose his neck. He raises a hand weakly, knuckles brushing his lover's cheek in a gesture that's both gentle and appreciative.]
Lan Zhan, mm-
[His voice is a bare whisper, rough and spent as he writhes against Lan Zhan's hand.]
Promise I won't- ah- doubt how much fun mm- oh- you're having... ever again.
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He could honestly keep going like this, finding new ways to please Wei Ying even after he releases a second time. But like limiting himself to no more than three bowls per meal, he thinks perhaps after this, he will just let Wei Ying bask lazily and pleasantly numb in afterglow.
But that's getting ahead of himself. ]
I will still prove that I do.
[ He gives the underside of Wei Ying's jaw a little nibble. ]
Everyday.
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He's already leaking, fluid dribbling down onto his flat stomach. It seems unfair, now that they're grown, that Lan Zhan knows all the places he's weak, where Wei Wuxian had once been the one to rile him up into little fits of emotion. But each touch and nibble and rough caress that continued, even after he came, was proof enough he was enjoying every bit of Wei Wuxian's body.]
Every day?
[His voice almost cracks on the word, hips stuttering against his hand. He doesn't doubt Lan Zhan has the stamina, but he's not sure his own body can take it, at least not if he expects Wei Wuxian to still be up before noon.]
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[ Now that the majority of sounds between them include the very wet slick sounds of Wangji's hand on Wei Ying's cock, his other hand is free to explore with curiosity the grooves of his stomach and the little sloping swells of his chest.
His body is unfairly smooth, freed of its old scars, beautiful and new. But Wangji has laid claim, has at least helped it get a little bit broken in. He hopes nothing else can touch it, not fire nor blade to skin. But if Wei Ying wishes it, he won't come to pray every day at his temple. ]
Is Wei Ying not having fun?
[ He doesn't really believe that, perhaps Wei Ying is only teasing. But Lan Wangji would gladly have him every day. Twice a day. ]
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His hips gave another shuddering buck into Lan Zhan's hand, thighs tensing as he nears his end, and he let out another whimpering moan. He's too close to string together any sort of eloquence to his words, punctuated as they are by increasingly needy gasps.]
No, I- Yes, I mean- ah Lan Zhan- I- yes... everyday... please...
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[ He casually jerks away at Wei Ying's cock, and feeling how close he is, the hand at his torso feels inspired to reach below to give his balls a little tug, to massage them in his palm. ]
Yes?
[ He knows every day is a tall order, but he wants to fully satisfy his husband in every aspect possible. To cook for him, to bathe him, to make love to him daily: these are the easy things. To make sure he feels loved and secured and safe: those are difficult.
But regardless, with his hands around Wei Ying like a harness, and lips against his neck, he feels at the very least, he could offer this. ]
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