[ Lan Wangji whispers merely soft "mm?"s against Wei Ying's ear, as if asking him to clarify things that surely he is in no state to clarify at the moment. He looks over Wei Ying's shoulder as the white fluid marks up his entire front, as it joins the previous mess they'd made.
And Wei Ying whose skin is covered in red and purple flowers with white branches, who's filled with release, completely wrecked and ruined, has possibly never looked more beautiful to Lan Wangji.
He lets Wei Ying fall back, cushions his fall, cradles him, turns his head to pepper his cheek with honey-sweet kisses light as butterfly landings. And he wants this, every night, for the rest of their lives, to invent new ways to please his husband. Wei Ying had such a creative, inventive mind; he doesn't anticipate this will be a problem in the bedroom.
[It's several moments before he feels at all coherent, blissed out and breath wild, he can only lean into Lan Zhan's embrace. There's a haze of satisfaction that for now, overrides the soreness between his thighs and the many bites and bruises that dot his skin.
When Lan Zhan speaks, he shifts to look at him, their faces close, and despite how pleasantly wrecked he feels, a grin that's just as mischievous and teasing as the day they met dances on his lips. He feels a faint flush to his skin, and glaces aside.]
Lan Zhan, you really have to ask, hm? Are you sure you're not just seeking out compliments?
[Shameless as he is, he's not sure he has enough face to say how much he enjoyed the rough press of skin, the breathless pleasure, or the way Lan Zhan manhandled him to the point of exhaustion. He gives a short and airy laugh, so much breath already spent.]
Good is not nearly a strong enough word for you, I'm afraid.
[ Despite that Wei Ying was nearly incoherent, and moaning his name, and had finished twice, he still wants to know that they are both enjoying themselves. He brushes Wei Ying's hair back and turns his face in towards him to share in his air.
He is satisfied with the answer given, holding Wei Ying in his arms, basking in their shared afterglow. He wants every night to be like this, tiring out his husband who is otherwise so full of boundless energy.
Lan Wangji looks at Wei Ying and his softly-lidded eyes and peach-blushed skin, and there's only adoration in his eyes. If he could project love, Wei Ying could feel it. But if he cannot, then Lan Wangji will take up his hands, and bring them to his lips, and kiss his knuckles hoping that he gets the picture. ]
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no subject
And Wei Ying whose skin is covered in red and purple flowers with white branches, who's filled with release, completely wrecked and ruined, has possibly never looked more beautiful to Lan Wangji.
He lets Wei Ying fall back, cushions his fall, cradles him, turns his head to pepper his cheek with honey-sweet kisses light as butterfly landings. And he wants this, every night, for the rest of their lives, to invent new ways to please his husband. Wei Ying had such a creative, inventive mind; he doesn't anticipate this will be a problem in the bedroom.
For now, he'll let Wei Ying catch his breath. ]
Good?
no subject
When Lan Zhan speaks, he shifts to look at him, their faces close, and despite how pleasantly wrecked he feels, a grin that's just as mischievous and teasing as the day they met dances on his lips. He feels a faint flush to his skin, and glaces aside.]
Lan Zhan, you really have to ask, hm? Are you sure you're not just seeking out compliments?
[Shameless as he is, he's not sure he has enough face to say how much he enjoyed the rough press of skin, the breathless pleasure, or the way Lan Zhan manhandled him to the point of exhaustion. He gives a short and airy laugh, so much breath already spent.]
Good is not nearly a strong enough word for you, I'm afraid.
no subject
He is satisfied with the answer given, holding Wei Ying in his arms, basking in their shared afterglow. He wants every night to be like this, tiring out his husband who is otherwise so full of boundless energy.
Lan Wangji looks at Wei Ying and his softly-lidded eyes and peach-blushed skin, and there's only adoration in his eyes. If he could project love, Wei Ying could feel it. But if he cannot, then Lan Wangji will take up his hands, and bring them to his lips, and kiss his knuckles hoping that he gets the picture. ]