Archive of Our Own

Each step that Wei Wuxian took from the Cloud Recesses was a stab to the heart, at first.

The further he got, the more Wei Wuxian realized the mistake he’d made. Mo Xuanyu had returned him to life for vengeance, but once its course was spent, that was no longer the focus of Wei Wuxian’s renewed existence.

His life was tangled up in Lan Wangji. His heart beat for another, not merely for his own sake.

Still, he persevered, he took the steps that separated them, and Wei Wuxian wandered, as he had wanted to do once the last cut from his curse was healed. When he’d first desired that, however, he’d expected Lan Wangji to stay at his side. What a naïve wish…

He reacquainted himself with the world. He took the night hunts that came his way here and there and patched his own wounds with a clumsy hand, taking payment where he could, refusing money when there was none to spare. Life was hard, but Wei Wuxian discovered on his own the moments that made it worth living.

Yet an ache remained in his chest. It would not be denied, and after six months out, Wei Wuxian began to realize it could not be endured.

Six months out was a stop at a bustling city in Qinghe, a way-point on his intended journey. He was pushing forward with the intention of seeing lands he’d never seen before, putting as much distance between himself and Gusu as possible because perhaps the further he went, the less that lack of connection would pain him.

Of course, Wei Wuxian couldn’t be so lucky.

He led Lil Apple past a courier, averting his face to try and trick himself into forgetting he had a saddlebag full of letters that needed sending.

Whether he burnt them or shoved them in the hands of a courier, Wei Wuxian ought to get rid of them. With each fresh sheet, he added to the pile of his burdens. Yet he was unable to bring himself to do either, and it seemed to him a fitting state for his situation.

On his way to an inn, he passed by yet another street busker hawking low-level arrays.

“Yiling Patriarch portraits! Charms and talismans to seal evil, and keep you safe!”

Well, Wei Wuxian could hardly help himself. At any mention of his name, he was lured to the spot.

He all but tore the brandished sketch from the hawker’s hand.

“Yiling—Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You’ve got to pay for that!”

Chin in hand, Wei Wuxian appraised the sketch. The composition was rough, clearly done by an amateur hand, but the portrait captured a slim, beardless young man, distinct in handsomeness, and he grinned his approval. “At last, there’s close representation,” he said, shoving the sketch back into the street busker’s hand as the man sputtered.

“Of course!” The man bristled. “These portraits were drawn by a disciple of the Yiling Patriarch himself, spread far and wide now that the misdeeds of the fallen Meng Yao are known!”

“Are they, now,” Wei Wuxian murmured. How quickly the tide of popular opinion turned. How fast the man who’d been Jin Guangyao was reverted to Meng Yao. He would have to find a tavern nearby to hear this district’s telling of tales.

He cast an eye over the arrays hanging off the man’s handheld rack and made a face. The portraits of the Yiling Patriarch had improved for sure, each of them progressively more attractive in each town to go along with the increasingly glowing burnishment of his reputation, but the arrays were still terrible. Indeed, half of them were outright fraud.

Wei Wuxian had to console himself with the certitude that none of them would actually get a person killed. Unless a junior cultivator were trying to use one in the field to seal or ward something, in which case, someone at that level would recognize the array for the piece of waste paper that it was.

“Are you going to buy something, young master?” the busker demanded.

Wei Wuxian lifted both hands. “I have no money to spare!” he declared. “I only wanted to see what the vaunted Yiling Patriarch looks like, should I ever see him on the road.”

The busker sniffed. “Be on your way, then, but beware. A youth like you could be in trouble.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wei Wuxian was honestly curious.

“I hear he’s a cut-sleeve!”

Wei Wuxian groaned and moved off without asking for the nearest tavern. “Mo Xuanyu, your reputation haunts me,” he muttered. He straightened his shoulders as he moved down the street.

No, he couldn’t blame Mo Xuanyu alone. His own behavior toward Hanguang-Jun had sealed his reputation—and there had been plenty of witnesses!

That was a new wrinkle, he mused as he walked along the avenue in search of a place that would allow him to put Lil Apple up long enough to enjoy a drink, catch up on local gossip, and with any luck, find his next paying job. With each town and city that he’d been through, the pictures of the Yiling Patriarch had gotten younger and more attractive. It kept pace with the spreading whispers that the Yiling Patriarch had been the scapegoat for the crimes of the former Chief Cultivator. Yet none had included the detail that the Yiling Patriarch was a rumored cut-sleeve thus far.

He wondered if some of the rumors would blame that one on Jin Guangyao, too.

He found a tavern a few lanes down. Far behind him were the days where he could sit down in the best establishment and order the finest wine. All places carried word of the latest news, though, so even though he was seated at a rickety table and the wine was watered down, the way people spoke without considering whether they were being overheard remained the same.

“—from the cultivation conference last week,” reached Wei Wuxian’s ears, and he was on the alert. He eyed the group of young men, squinting at their vaguely familiar robes and finally placing them as the Zhao sect, a minor off-shoot of Meishan Yu that had been all but exterminated before the Sunshot Campaign.

The oldest looking of the lot harrumphed and reached for a bowl of chestnuts, cracking one loudly and peeling it. “Hanguang-Jun has either lost his mind, or this is the most strategic move in three generations.”

“He’s hardly a madman,” one of the younger men said, a youth who reminded him of Lan Jingyi in his way of speaking if not looks. “Everyone thought so when he sided with the Yiling Patriarch, but he was in the right, wasn’t he?”

Wei Wuxian fiddled with his sleeve, impatient. He knew all of that already; he wanted to hear why Hanguang-Jun was being thought reckless by the cultivation world. It had to be good if it was making the rounds with smaller sects.

“This is this and that was that,” the oldest one said obscurely.

Wei Wuxian had to suppress the urge to throw an empty jar at him and demand, “What is this?”

“Isn’t it a big advantage for sects like us, though?” a larger, round-faced youth asked. “We can have some say in the overall direction of cultivation sect matters, and make sure we aren’t put at a disadvantage.”

“Why would Gusu Lan give away their position like that?” asked a shrewd-faced man with a mustache. “Right now, they hold absolute power with Hanguang-Jun as Chief Cultivator.”

“Because he’s better than that,” the youth declared. “He’s looking out for all of us with the long view. Even if he is fair and equitable, what about the man after him to hold that position? Or the one after that?”

“He can cultivate to immortality and stay the Chief Cultivator forever,” the round-faced youth said with a laugh.

“Isn’t that another kind of tyranny?” said the youngest. “No, Hanguang-Jun is doing this for everyone’s sake. He’s breaking the power from one sole position and making it everyone’s responsibility.”

“Still, I am surprised all the major sects are going along with it, dispersing the power to every sect, dissolving the position of Chief Cultivator—”

Wei Wuxian sat back, reeling. He took a long swallow of his wine, shook the last drops into his mouth from the jar, and beckoned for another. He drank that one in silence, too, as his heart beat fast.

Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, was setting up a governing body of cultivators that could function without him.

He finished his second round of wine, and his wallet restrained him from ordering more. His empty stomach prevented him from getting up and leaving right that instant.

Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t be Chief Cultivator anymore.

Perhaps he had never wanted to be, to begin with.

Wei Wuxian wanted to get straight up from the table. He wanted to walk out of the tavern, out of the city, out of Qinghe. He put his money pouch on the table and sighed. It laid almost flat. What he wanted, and what he was capable of doing, were two different things.

He blew a strand out hair out of his face. No matter how much he wanted to turn back at hearing the latest news instead of pressing past Qinghe, Wei Wuxian could not subsist on air and night hunts. And stabling Lil Apple cost money, and he couldn’t afford to sell or make other arrangements for her until his cultivation was strong enough to wield Suibian again and he could ride his sword.

There was no getting around it. He had to get at least one paying gig before he left the city. That would have been the case whether he was going forward or back.

Qinghe, at least, had night hunts to spare and then some.

The situation wasn’t much different from the last time he’d been through the area—even if the Nie clan was responsible for it, most disruptions and situations that required the intervention of a cultivator weren’t being attended to. One encouraging piece of news was the word around the towns was that Nie Huaisang was sending a new group of youths to Gusu Lan’s next lectures for training.

From the plethora of available night hunts, the trick from there was to sort through to some that would offer opportunity to get paid, yet were small enough that it was beneath notice of a larger sect that might be passing through.

Luck smiled on Wei Wuxian, for a change. He stumbled over a string of night hunts plaguing a group of well-off traders, and the only catch was that he had to travel further out with them in order to resolve the resentful spirits that haunted the region, closing off faster, more lucrative trade routes.

By the time his pouch was full enough to start the journey back, the hardships of winter closed the roads to a donkey’s hooves.

Wei Wuxian was sorely tempted to sell Lil Apple and buy passage back to Gusu, but the thought that no one else would put up with her stubborn ways except him stayed his hand.

His saddlebag was so stuffed with unsent letters, he could use the pack for a pillow. The story he told himself was that he had to make his money pouch stretch as far as Gusu, once the passes opened. He had no currency to spare the courier. With so many cheap arrays on the streets, the city’s residents didn’t have the eye to recognize the genuine article from the fakes.

He thought of going to the Unclean Realm, once or twice. Each time he considered it, he passed a hand over his chest and thought of the man who had been pushed into such a desperate situation, he had sacrificed himself to bring Wei Wuxian back. No, Wei Wuxian could find no solace at the Unclean Realm. Even if Mo Xuanyu held no grudge against Nie Huaisang, that one’s hand had been the one behind the terrible choice he’d been driven to.

He stayed in town and picked up odd jobs to pass the time and pay the innkeeper. There were plenty of minor supernatural happenings in a city so large; all of them were beneath his ability, but most plagued people with enough coin to hand over in order for him to make their problems go away. Normally Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have bothered over trivial matters like disturbances to the balance of household spirits. Still, it paid enough to live by.

Once the roads thawed and became firm enough to travel, there was no stopping Wei Wuxian.

He made his way back to Gusu, and each step that took him back made him lighter; the passage of each town made the pain in his heart recede.

With every fiber of his being, he hoped it wasn’t too late.

He kept that small hope cupped inside of him, sheltered from fully forming even within his own thoughts. When he saw Lan Wangji again, he would know.

He’d know right away if it was true, what he couldn’t allow himself to believe.

His doubts were loudest; they told him it was too late, he had waited too long, that Lan Wangji had never wanted him to stay to begin with. When he tried to sleep at night, the doubt whispered that Lan Wangji was direct enough he would have asked him to stay. Yet he had never told him to leave. At least Wei Wuxian was used to ignoring the loudest voices.

Two towns from Caiyi, Wei Wuxian counted his money, sat down, and wrote a letter.

I’m sorry it’s been so long.

I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner.

I’m sorry I ever left, to begin with.

I am coming back to you.

In a week’s time there will be no need to say ‘I’m sorry’ again.

—Wei Ying

He wanted to sign it ‘yours,’ didn’t quite have the nerve even if it was true regardless, and sealed it with a small sigil attuned to Lan Wangji before handing it over to the courier with his money.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach growled, and mentally he told it to shut up; he didn’t need food for a few days.

“That’s it,” he told Lil Apple as they headed out of town. “I’m inventing a talisman of my own for long-distance communication.” He thought of the butterfly charm that had carried a message to Lan Wangji when they’d left Lotus Pier. Something like that, but in his own style. And he’d do one better and invent something that allowed for a two-way message.

Wei Wuxian began to puzzle through the details of such a talisman on the road, and it occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of sparing any notice for his stomach.

The road was free and clear back to Caiyi. He’d half expected some last-minute catastrophic delay or a night hunt to catch his notice and make a lie of the message he’d sent. Gusu was well-patrolled, though; the needs of its citizens, no matter how rich or common, were tended to by the juniors that roamed the land. Their seniors stood ready to step in if any greater dangers manifested.

Each step up the path that led into the Cloud Recesses made Wei Wuxian’s entire body sing.

I am coming, I am coming, his heart seemed to beat out of his breast as he took the last rocky turn that led to the gate of Cloud Recesses itself.

Two juniors that he didn’t recognize stood guarding the entrance, stern-looking young men with immaculate robes and headbands. Wei Wuxian bounced up to them with an easy smile.

“Hello, I’m here to see Hanguang-Jun.” He moved to pass through.

A sheathed sword barred his way.

“Excuse me?” Wei Wuxian regarded the sword with incredulity. He raised a hand, pinched the sheath with his fingertips, and steered it out of his way.

The other junior raised his sheathed sword, face apologetic but determined at the same time. “No entry without a token or invitation.”

Wei Wuxian took a step back as his heart dropped into his empty stomach with a thud.

“Don’t you know who I am?” he said, still caught up in disbelief.

“Yi—” the first junior began, and the other junior spoke over him, “Master Wei, I am sorry, but you don’t have a token.”

He stared at one, then the other. His shoulders slumped. “I sent word I was coming,” he mumbled, so low it was almost a whisper.

“We have received no instruction to let anyone in without a token,” the first junior said.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth tightened. He was really beginning to dislike that guy.

He looked at the two young men, sizing them up. They kept their hands on their swords, eyes alert. Wei Wuxian sighed and considered the range of a paperman talisman. It probably wouldn’t make it up the hill without getting snatched in a raptor’s beak.

“Then can one of you go speak with Hanguang-Jun, and please let him know I’m here?” Wei Wuxian asked, pinning his hopes on a smile for the friendlier junior, who opened his mouth.

“No,” the first one said, and gave his peer a hard look.

The second one frowned but turned to Wei Wuxian with a rueful shrug.

With an angry sigh, Wei Wuxian turned his back on them and walked away from the gate.

His heart begged for the sight of Lan Wangji to walk around the last turn of the rocky ridge and come toward him, a parallel to that moment from so long ago, but of course real life wasn’t so kind.

A short way down the mountain, he squatted in a small clearing beside the path and considered his options. He wasn’t going to force his way through the gate; he had come for Lan Wangji, but making an assault on Gusu Lan’s gate would only prove every bad thought Lan Qiren had ever entertained of him. He could return to Caiyi, but he didn’t have enough money to stay a single night; he’d used up the rest on the road to the Cloud Recesses. He could hope the more sympathetic junior went to Lan Wangji once his patrol duty was over. He could camp right where he was squatting until he expired of hunger or until Hanguang-Jun left the Cloud Recesses.

Wei Wuxian exhaled another long sigh, this one mournful. If only he’d finished work on his theoretical messenger talisman. He eyed his bulging saddlebag. He certainly had plenty of paper to repurpose.

It seemed a ridiculous proposition to wrangle his donkey halfway down the way to the Cloud Recesses simply to seek out a flatter hilltop overlooking the valley, but Wei Wuxian was nothing if not absurd. He threw himself into the grand gesture, and it seemed a better alternative to find a hilltop to play on than to drape his famished body across the threshold of the Cloud Recesses to become a resentful corpse.

The spring wind blew in his face. He let Lil Apple’s reins loose so that she could graze, took Chenqing from his belt, and squared his shoulders, giving his dizi a twirl before bringing it to his lips and settling himself.

He breathed life into the opening notes of Lan Wangji’s unknown song, sending it up and outward on the wind. He would play all day, play until beyond dusk, play until his lips cracked and bled.

I am coming back to you.

He had been hoping to receive an answer at the gate, but he would wait no matter what.

He was done roaming.

Wei Wuxian played as morning waned and the wind caught his song, carrying it farther than his breath could travel. He played for hours with the breeze in his face, closing his eyes against it as he poured his soul into a particular melodic turn of phrase.

Everything fell silent around him. Even the wind stopped.

“Wei Ying.”

He ceased playing at once, convinced he’d imagined it but desperate to believe. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around all at once, not right away. He had imagined that voice, saying his name exactly that way, so many times over the past months that he couldn’t believe his ears in the moment.

He turned slowly, anticipation so keen it edged on fear. He had already been sent away once, that day.

Wei Wuxian broke out into an incredulous smile, huffing softly in disbelief.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said again, a vision in pale blue robes scrolled with swirling white clouds.

Wei Wuxian was sure his grin had to be taking over his entire face. He stuffed Chenqing into his belt and hurled himself forward, crossing the field between him in several long strides.

The hope within his chest was a tight, furled seed.

He threw himself into Lan Wangji’s arms, laughing with relief. For a moment, that seed of hope withered at Lan Wangji’s stiffness, but arms went around him in the next second, circling Wei Wuxian tightly, so tightly that Wei Wuxian feared his ribs would crack. Whether his body could withstand the embrace or not, the hope inside him bloomed, and he knew.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered against Lan Wangji’s neck.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji breathed into his ear, and Wei Wuxian knew that he was welcome, after all.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said again, letting himself sag in Lan Wangji’s secure hold out of utter relief. All he could do was rest his chin on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and enjoy the embrace, overcome.

Lan Wangji held him like a man who would never let him go. Wei Wuxian exhaled his relief, set his cheek against Lan Wangji’s shoulder, and allowed himself to exist and breathe. The scent of sandalwood was in his nose, and silken dark hair was against his cheek. Strong arms were holding him close, far closer than any man would hold someone he did not care for.

When Lan Wangji’s hold loosened slightly, Wei Wuxian drew back to look at his beloved face. There were too many things he wanted to say.

“My message,” he began, and stopped.

Lan Wangji’s brow creased. “I received no message.”

“I sent it a week ago!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. Had the courier been lost to some misadventure? His suspicious thoughts landed on Lan Qiren. Had it been intercepted, even secured with a sigil that prevented anyone but Lan Wangji from opening it?

The flawless brow cleared. “Wei Ying, I have arrived home for the first time in two weeks.”

Wei Wuxian groaned. His stomach echoed it in a sharper, louder pitch.

“Come,” Lan Wangji said, releasing him from the embrace but taking his hand in exchange.

Wei Wuxian offered him a shy grin and laced their fingers together. Lan Wangji made no reaction, which told him he had every right to be so familiar. His smile widened.

“Why did you not wait at the Jingshi?” Lan Wangji asked.

“They—” Wei Wuxian bit off an angry response. “Your men at the gate said I had no token and turned me away.” He glanced sidelong at Lan Wangji to catch his reaction and wasn’t disappointed.

Lan Wangji’s full mouth flattened and his eyes went dark. “Should have known,” was all he said, but he didn’t elaborate.

When Lan Wangji’s hand took Lil Apple’s bridle, the ungrateful donkey put up not a single moment of resistance as they headed back for the path that would take them to the Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes over his shoulder at her.

“I’m on to you” he wanted to say, but who wouldn’t behave better for Lan Wangji? He certainly did.

“Your message,” Lan Wangji said when they were back to the path that climbed upward. He was leading Lil Apple, but his other hand remained securely laced together with Wei Wuxian’s.

Wei Wuxian covered his face with his free hand. “I can’t,” he said, and his voice caught. “It’s too embarrassing to say out loud. If it’s waiting for you, then you can read it.” He wondered if he could bury his saddlebag in the back hills while Lan Wangji was at lectures.

He could feel Lan Wangji looking at him; could even, perhaps, intuit his thoughts. What could Wei Ying send to me in a letter that he cannot say to me?

Wei Wuxian smiled. Lan Wangji ought to know he was far better at showing his heart than speaking it. He was the same way, after all.

They reached the entrance to Cloud Recesses more quickly than Wei Wuxian recalled leaving it. This time, Wei Wuxian approached the gate hand in hand with Lan Wangji.

“H-Hanguang-Jun!” The juniors straightened and bore identical expressions of terror when they looked from Lan Wangji to Wei Wuxian and back again.

“Juniors,” Lan Wangji said, his voice frigid as a winter stream. “You denied Wei Wuxian entry?”

“Y-yes, Hanguang-Jun,” piped up the junior who had initially raised his sheathed sword to bar Wei Wuxian’s path.

“On whose orders?” Lan Wangji demanded.

“H-Hanguang-Jun, after you departed for the conference, Grandmaster reminded us that those without tokens or invitations to the lecture cannot enter.”

Lan Wangji was so rigid beside Wei Wuxian, he could be mistaken for a statue. “I see.”

With a great deal of effort, Wei Wuxian kept a straight face. He was finding the whole situation wildly hilarious now that he had Lan Wangji beside him. There would probably be some kind of suitable reprisal for Lan Qiren, but he had the sense he wouldn’t need to lift a finger for it.

“Hanguang-Jun?” the other junior, the one Wei Wuxian had tagged in his head as slightly more sympathetic, ventured.

Lan Wangji inclined his head by a single frosty degree and swept forward, taking Wei Wuxian with him through the ward by their joined hands.

Wei Wuxian’s heart was warm and settled within him; it was in full bloom. The serenity of the grounds enfolded them as they walked up the path. As they walked, the sunlight sliced through the tree cover, creating dappled light and shadow patterns, golden lace spreading out in front of them.

They left Lil Apple in a meadow full of rabbits, unsaddled and unbridled, free to roam and browse from fresh grassy growth.

“I shouldn’t just leave her,” Wei Wuxian said, torn between tending her properly and keeping his hand in Lan Wangji’s wherever he was led.

“I’ll send a junior,” Lan Wangji assured him.

“Ah, that’s okay, then.”

He pressed his fingers in Lan Wangji’s, soft joy filling him like water into an upturned cup when Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened against his.

He could be happy with this much, Wei Wuxian thought. He turned his head and his breath caught in his throat at the look in Lan Wangji’s eyes.

That was the watchful intensity of a man who wanted more than hand-holding.

“Let’s...back to the Jingshi, then?” Wei Wuxian suggested, and once the words were out, he realized he might have missed part of his sentence.

It was fine. Lan Wangji tugged him into step and they walked together, side by side. Wei Wuxian tipped his head up to look at the screen of lush green canopy overhead and smiled.

He could walk beside this man for the rest of his life, the thought occurred.

The Jingshi was unchanged from how Wei Wuxian remembered it. That put a nostalgic look on his face, but he smiled again when Lan Wangji’s hand led him onward.

“Welcome—” Lan Wangji paused. “Welcome back.”

Wei Wuxian cocked his head and gave him a very small, gentle smile. There were so many things he wanted to say right then. He settled on, “It’s good to be back.”

With the slowness of deep reluctance, Lan Wangji disentangled their fingers. “I will get you some food.” He hesitated, eyes dwelling on Wei Wuxian’s. “Stay here?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Wei Wuxian promised, standing upright and giving him an earnest salute.

Lan Wangji’s face gentled. He turned and left at a Lan’s haste worth of speed.

Wei Wuxian wanted to explore the Jingshi, to see if everything was in its place exactly as before. He didn’t quite dare. It was like the saddlebag of letters left unbuckled in the meadow with Lil Apple’s tack. It should be left undisturbed, revealed only with permission. Instead, he stood with his hands in his sleeves and regarded the quiet golden glory of afternoon from the front door of the Jingshi, recalling a snow-fallen night more than a year before.

When Lan Wangji returned, it was with a covered basket clearly meant for at least two people. Wei Wuxian’s brows rose.

“Please tell me you haven’t had lunch, either,” he implored. Although it was true that he hadn’t eaten in a while, which he would be careful to avoid saying because he didn’t want a lecture, he didn’t want to be regarded as that much of a glutton.

“I have not had lunch, either,” Lan Wangji said, obliging.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed. Now, did he mean it, or had he said it because Wei Wuxian had asked him to?

Lan Wangji’s expression quirked ever so subtly. “Wei Ying,” he said, gesturing to the table.

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands and seated himself, guessing which place would be his because he had the sense Lan Wangji would always want to face the door but allow Wei Wuxian the security of a wall at his back as well. It was how they’d always sat together on the road.

The moment Lan Wangji uncovered a basket of steamed dumplings, Wei Wuxian forgot whatever point of principle he’d been trying to hold onto. He rubbed his hands together as Lan Wangji heaped his plate and uncovered more dishes, including a clear broth soup, noodles with shredded vegetables, and a good amount of sliced plums.

He looked down at the food with a deep amount of suspicion, then over at Lan Wangji. “This looks delicious,” he said, almost accusatory.

Lan Wangji met his gaze. The unspoken I’ve eaten your sect’s food before lay between them. “Try it,” he invited.

When Wei Wuxian picked up his chopsticks, Lan Wangji turned away, reaching for something else, and set down a stoppered glass bottle flecked with deep reds and yellow.

“You kept chili here? Waiting for me?” This, more than anything, made him want to cover his face and sniff, even though he hadn’t opened the seasoning yet.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji replied, like it was a matter of course.

“Th—”

“There is no need for thanks between us,” Lan Wangji said before he could finish. He looked as though he wanted to say more but turned to the food and served it up between their plates.

Wei Wuxian rubbed at his nose and got hold of himself with slow, even breaths. He began to eat at a nod from Lan Wangji, reminding his stomach of his dominance by pacing himself with measured bites.

“It is delicious,” he said under his breath. There was something going on here. Either the cooks at the Cloud Recesses had suffered a change of heart regarding the bland, grassy, medicinal fare they had served since forever, or Lan Wangji had gotten this food elsewhere. When would he have found the time?

Lan Wangji ate his portion with his typical economical silence and set aside his chopsticks first, bringing a tightly rolled parchment from his sleeve. The sigil that sealed it shut was recognizable at a glance.

Wei Wuxian made a grab for it, dropping his noodles and chopsticks alike, but Lan Wangji held the letter out of reach. His gaze held mild reproof.

“You said,” Lan Wangji chided.

Wei Wuxian groaned. He put his cheek on his hand and watched Lan Wangji break the seal, open his message, and scan its contents. The slight frown that had been on his face dissolved into wonder.

He looked into Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

Wei Wuxian gave him a sheepish smile.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said after a moment. “There is no need to say ‘I’m sorry,’ either. You do not owe me anything.”

Wei Wuxian made a face. “Then I’m sorry for myself,” he said. “Only, no matter how much I didn’t want to go, there…there was nothing, no one, asking me to stay.” He had to look at the table, then. He couldn’t keep looking into Lan Wangji’s eyes.

“Wei Ying…would have stayed?”

Wei Wuxian looked up quickly. “But Hanguang-Jun never asked.” He was acutely aware of the impact his continued presence could have on the Cloud Recesses. Even a year distant from the events at Guanyin Temple, even despite all that had been revealed, there were people who would begrudge any perceived interference from the former Yiling Patriarch. Not to mention, Lan Qiren would never forgive him the sins of his past or the influence he’d exerted on Lan Wangji.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s face was as pained as Wei Wuxian had ever seen it. “I wanted to depart with you. But it wasn’t time.” He paused, throat working.

“You’re dispersing the power of the Chief Cultivator position,” Wei Wuxian said softly. “So that they won’t need you anymore. If I had stayed…”

“Wei Ying seemed eager to leave.” Lan Wangji forced the words out.

They stared at one another in dismay.

“I could have…” It was a puff of incredulous breath. Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh but his face twisted. “I could have waited, then asked you to come with me? I…I…Lan Zhan, I did not think I could ask!”

Lan Wangji’s face was steady, but his eyes were stricken. “I did not think I could ask Wei Ying to stay.”

“I would have stayed!” Wei Wuxian cried out, his sudden movement bumping the low table with his knee. “I…I didn’t think I ought to. I didn’t…” He fell silent, overwhelmed. There were things he had wanted all along, but he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to assume.

“I thought,” Lan Wangji said, measuring out his words in careful consideration, “Wei Ying needed freedom. You wanted to explore.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted up to take in that composed face. He knew, now, there was a great deal going on beneath the surface. He reached out, his fingers snagging the edge of Lan Wangji’s long, beautifully patterned pale blue sleeve. Now was the time for honesty between them. “I wanted to explore it with you.”

Lan Wangji’s face angled; his eyes sought Wei Wuxian’s again. He was less composed. “My heart left with you.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said. His face crumpled. “I felt it, you know. With every step, it was like my heart was cut out.”

He shifted, half spilling around the side of the table, but Lan Wangji was there to catch him.

“Wei Ying, will you—” Lan Wangji began, and before he could finish the question, Wei Wuxian surged up and kissed him on the mouth.

They held still for a moment, and before Wei Wuxian could get worried over awkwardness, Lan Wangji’s mouth pressed back against his, warm and soft, and his hand came up to cup the side of his jaw.

Ah, this. Wei Wuxian inhaled, nudging forward to kiss with clumsy fervor, reaching up to tangle a hand in Lan Wangji’s hair as their mouths kindled heat and rightness with each pass. This was what he had not allowed himself to hope, Lan Wangji loving him back in deed as well as emotion.

When they drew back from the kiss, Wei Wuxian thought he might be shaking. Lan Wangji slid his hand from his jaw to cradle the back of his neck.

“Welcome home,” Lan Wangji said quietly, and the sense of being recognized made Wei Wuxian tremble like a leaf.

That was exactly the feeling that hit him, recognition, as they sat together in the wake of their first kiss. It was a sense of rightness and of being welcome without question.

He breathed in and out and gave Lan Wangji an unsteady smile. “I’m home,” he replied. He shifted forward, depositing himself fully into Lan Wangji’s arms. They circled him and held him close. Home was here. It was not a place with walls; it was beside Lan Wangji.

He was perfectly content to remain there for long moments, cheek against Lan Wangji’s shoulder, nose buried in his neck, one of Lan Wangji’s hands at the back of his neck while his other arm circled Wei Wuxian’s waist. They fit together. He wondered why it had taken him so long to admit it.

When his stomach growled, Wei Wuxian huffed and Lan Wangji turned his head to kiss his ear. “Such betrayal,” he mourned, let down by his own body again.

“You haven’t been eating,” Lan Wangji murmured.

“I have, I definitely have!” Wei Wuxian contradicted.

“Not enough.”

Well, there was nothing to say against that.

Lan Wangji sat back, disengaging him with gentle care. One hand was the last to leave him, cupping Wei Wuxian’s face like he was fragile. No, Wei Wuxian realized. Like he was worth cherishing. He smiled. By the end of the night, he was sure his cheeks would hurt from smiling so much in one day, and he’d be happier for it.

“Finish your food,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian wanted to pout, but he was actually still too hungry to protest. There had been at least three servings’ worth of food in the basket, and Lan Wangji had consumed one. Wei Wuxian had made his way through most of the remainder before interruption, but his stomach was punishing him for lost time.

“As long as we can keep kissing, afterward,” Wei Wuxian bargained.

Lan Wangji’s face was alight from within. “Whatever Wei Ying wishes.”

“Lan Zhan! Be careful promising such a thing. You might find out how shameless I really am,” Wei Wuxian teased, picking up his chopsticks and digging into his noodles again. He applied himself to his food in silence, eager to finish.

It was well seasoned and delicious. Had Lan Wangji bribed one of the cooks? He set aside that matter for later. Lan Wangji’s eyes were warm on him as he ate, and all he wanted to do was satisfy his stomach quickly so that he could move on to other demands of his body.

“I’ll fetch a bath,” Lan Wangji said, rising as Wei Wuxian began to dig into his last serving of noodles.

Wei Wuxian would have protested, but he’d been on the road for days without the comfort of an inn. He was happy that Lan Wangji had entertained him in the Jingshi to begin with, and with no pre-condition that he jump into a spring beforehand.

He finished his meal, sat back, and patted his very satisfied stomach. Who knew he would ever eat such a good meal in the Cloud Recesses? He was certain that it wasn’t only his state of hunger, nor the chili oil, that had seasoned the meal. Somehow, Lan Wangji had procured edible food for him.

He widened his eyes.

“That food is a courting gift!” Wei Wuxian accused when Lan Wangji stepped into the Jingshi carrying a tub of hot water.

Lan Wangji paused and looked at him before carrying the tub through.

Wei Wuxian sat there chuckling to himself. Lan Wangji wanted to prove to him that if he stayed, he’d be well provided for. Didn’t he realize he himself was already enough?

When Lan Wangji returned to his side, Wei Wuxian’s mirth had diminished and he was full of fondness.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan, what you do to me,” he murmured, reaching out to tug on his robe. It didn’t require a response, nor did he get one.

“The bath is ready,” Lan Wangji informed him, as if he hadn’t just seen him carry an entire tub filled with water inside. Any other person, even most cultivators, would have needed to make multiple trips.

Wei Wuxian got to his feet, giving him a bright smile. “Shall we bathe together?” It was a frivolous invitation, but Lan Wangji took a single step toward him, heat kindling in his gaze. It made Wei Wuxian catch his breath and remind himself to be watchful of his words.

“I have already bathed.” Lan Wangji’s words were more reserved than his expression. “Wei Ying should have the tub to himself. This time.”

Wei Wuxian shivered a little. Could it be so easy, to fit himself into Lan Wangji’s life? Was it allowed? He crossed the Jingshi and went behind the privacy screen, half expecting Lan Wangji to follow, but when he peeped around the screen, Lan Wangji was gathering up the dishes from their meal. He turned to disrobe, already bemoaning the prospect of bathing and getting back into travel-stained clothing afterward, only to find a set of clean robes in his style awaiting him on the rack.

His eyes rounded. Courting gifts. He could only think of it as such. Lan Wangji was showing him how welcome he was; Lan Wangji wanted him to stay.

He gave the fresh robes a pleased grin and peeled out of his clothes, tossing them aside and climbing into the bath. The temperature was that in-between balance of warm, on the edge of steaming, without being too hot.

He sank into the water with a blissful purr, holding his hair off to the side for the moment. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of the water and the calm of the Jingshi.

“I can’t believe I had to go out past Qinghe to figure out what we both already knew,” he spoke to Lan Wangji through the privacy screen, knowing he’d be heard. He draped an arm over the side of the tub, wishing he could see Lan Wangji at his writing desk from his vantage point.

He heard a faint “mn” that let him know Lan Wangji was listening, though. He smiled and reached for the soap.

“Did you see Nie Huaisang?” came from Lan Wangji’s direction after a moment.

“No,” Wei Wuxian replied. “I won’t see him unless I have to, I think. It’s not that I have any particular suspicions of him toward me, exactly, more...obligation, I suppose. Poor Mo Xuanyu. So, I wouldn’t see him unless I had to. Not voluntarily.”

Another slight noise of agreement. Then, an unexpected sentence: “I did not attend cultivation conferences these past thirteen years. Did not want to.”

Wei Wuxian sighed, splashing about in the bath. “Ah, Lan Zhan, my accomplished, wonderful, esteemed Hanguang-Jun, why on earth did they make you Chief Cultivator to begin with? Setting aside entirely the matter that you took my part from the moment of my reappearance, which I suppose can be discounted on account of my exoneration, they all must know you’ve neither the interest nor the head for politics!” He slapped the water, more than a little annoyed. If not for Lan Wangji’s face holding back when Wei Wuxian had asked where they would go next, they could have eloped then and there.

He settled back against the tub again. Had he been self-aware enough at that point to know what he wanted? Maybe.

It might have taken a few more nights at inns where there was only one room for the two of them.

“I was seen as the only neutral party.”

Wei Wuxian screwed his face up. “Doesn’t mean you had to take it,” he muttered. He knew enough that not only did the sects decide, but the one offered the honor had to accept as well, though it had been a foregone conclusion the last couple of times it had happened.

The silence was longer that time. “They would have offered it to Xiong-zhang.”

Wei Wuxian sucked in a breath. Well, then, of course Lan Wangji had felt obligated. They had each supported the person they’d trusted the most. Lan Wangji had been vindicated, but Zewu-Jun…

Zewu-Jun must have felt as though he’d lost everything, including trust in himself.

Lan Wangji continued quietly, “It allowed necessary reforms.”

“Ah, that’s true, then, that’s true.” Wei Wuxian went back to scrubbing himself. “It never seemed right that the chief cultivator position stayed in the same family line until something happened. But distributing the power between major and minor sects is a huge improvement. And it makes everyone accountable, as well as sharing responsibilities.”

No reply came back that time, which from Lan Wangji meant he was satisfied Wei Wuxian had understood.

“I was a little surprised they agreed to the rotating-moderator clause,” Wei Wuxian continued. The closer he’d come to Caiyi, the more he’d learned even loitering on the streets. He paused to dunk his hair and started lathering it up. “And to hear the conference host would be different from the one moderating. That was a stroke of genius.” He gave a little grin and imagined that the silence from Lan Wangji had an aura of satisfaction.

Working through the length of his hair took longer than he wanted it to, as always. By the end, he was getting through the remaining tangles with impatient, jerky movements, almost certainly leaving frayed ends behind, but he couldn’t be bothered to take more care.

Wei Wuxian dried himself off, wrapped himself in the new inner robe Lan Wangji had left for him, and considered the outer layer. He was certain Lan Wangji would not be offended if he reappeared without it, and it might make his own intentions clear.

“Hello,” he said softly, stepping around the privacy screen and securing Lan Wangji’s immediate attention.

Lan Wangji gazed up at him like Wei Wuxian had stepped forth to hang the first line of stars along the mountaintops.

Wei Wuxian looked down at his own bare feet, self-conscious about every single one of his choices. Except coming back to Gusu; that had been the right decision.

Realizing his love for Lan Wangji hadn’t been a choice. It was inevitability.

He fussed a moment before taking action and seated himself at the end of the writing desk, draping an elbow on the table. All the while, he kept his eyes on Lan Wangji, who never looked away.

“Oh,” he said. He ran his thumb over and under the edge of his sleeve. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Lan Wangji continued to look. “You are not.”

“I’m not?” Wei Wuxian hitched closer to the corner of the writing table, caught up in a swell of shyness he couldn’t remember feeling in quite some time, if ever. When had he been aware of liking someone this much?

Lan Wangji set aside the stack of papers on his writing table. “I was waiting for Wei Ying.”

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian wet his lips. “Well. Now you have me.”

He wasn’t expecting that, of all things, to be tinder laid down for the spark, but Lan Wangji surged around the writing table and swept him into the crook of an arm. He brought their faces closer than close, hovering near his mouth.

“Wei Ying,” he said. It was a question and a declaration.

Wei Wuxian gave the barest nod. “I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. As if it wasn’t clear already! “Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, my Lan Zhan. My heart belongs to you, only you. In any way, in every way, that you’ll have me…I’m yours.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes for an instant, seemed to hold his breath, and a tremor went through the arm holding Wei Wuxian. “I’m yours,” he repeated quietly. “My heart is only Wei Ying’s. In every way Wei Ying will have me, I belong to you.”

Wei Wuxian huffed with joyous disbelief. He shifted that last infinitesimal distance between them and pressed a kiss to the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth.

The kiss from before was a surprise; this one had intent. It was affirmation. Lan Wangji pressed into his mouth like he would devour him, and Wei Wuxian drew him in, only happy to be consumed. They kissed, and Wei Wuxian inscribed the longing of his heart into each one. He touched the side of Lan Wangji’s face and kissed softly, lips parting for him. They held each other tight and a subtle note sang in his ears as Lan Wangji’s mouth demanded, and he gave all he was asked for. He got up onto his lap and tugged at his belt with a bold hand and exclaimed when Lan Wangji bit his lower lip.

It didn’t hurt, though. The sharp little pain made his heart beat faster, and he drew away to look at Lan Wangji.

“Not here,” Lan Wangji said. He leaned in to kiss the small hurt he’d caused.

“Bed? At this time of day?” Wei Wuxian was floating. He couldn’t help but tease Lan Wangji. Was it possible he loved him too much? “How shocking!” He let himself be drawn to his feet with Lan Wangji’s easy strength, though, and leaned against him for another kiss.

And another, and another. Taking a single step seemed impossible when they were lost in one another’s mouths.

When Lan Wangji steered him toward the bed, he went willingly. And gazed upon it, experiencing another surprise.

Wei Wuxian remembered Lan Wangji’s bed. He’d been in it before, when Lan Wangji had brought him back to the Cloud Recesses after Jin Ling had stabbed him. It had been a standard singleton’s bed.

The bed that Lan Wangji lead him to now was long and wide and built for two.

“Lan Zhan,” he exclaimed, clinging to Lan Wangji’s hand. That frustrated, hopeless fondness welled up within him again.

Lan Wangji met his eyes with a warm, sidelong look. “I did not want to presume, but I hoped.”

“I’m not scandalized; I wish I had stayed! Or come back sooner!”

“Wei Ying came back when the time was right.”

He could keep telling himself that, Wei Wuxian thought, holding fast to Lan Wangji’s arm and securing his other hand there for good measure. It still meant a year spent apart. He would not have traded getting reacquainted with today’s world, but it would have been immeasurably better with Lan Wangji. Worth waiting a year for, at least.

They sank to the bed and Lan Wangji kissed him again, chasing his tongue. Wei Wuxian was only too happy to be pursued but worked at the ornate belt at the same time, frustrated when it wouldn’t budge for him at first.

Wei Wuxian was glad that it was now, that they were both eager in the broad light of day, and that neither of them were inclined to wait until it was dark with only a paper lantern to see one another. When he managed to get Lan Wangji’s belt open, he gave a little crow of triumph, and Lan Wangji bit his lower lip again.

“Ah,” he protested, without force behind it. When Lan Wangji pulled back a fraction, he tugged at his robes to reel him right back again. Getting the hint, Lan Wangji nipped the corner of his mouth, and Wei Wuxian arched against him, making a louder noise.

He pawed gracelessly at Lan Wangji’s elegant robes as Lan Wangji continued to kiss him. His one focus was getting those robes off, or at least putting them on the same footing. When Lan Wangji bit the side of his neck, he gasped but stayed focused on stripping the outer robe. There was another lacy layer beneath, and he tilted his head, exposing his neck even more as he struggled with getting that layer off Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

Lan Wangji’s not-so-gentle bite turned into soothing kisses, and Wei Wuxian sighed as his own robe was pushed down to expose more of his skin.

“Lan Zhan, we’re not even married yet, I feel as though I’ll get accused of ruining you,” Wei Wuxian said playfully, giddy with the success of removing the second layer. He was more careful with that one, piling it atop the outer robe already pooled on the floor.

That earned him another bite delivered below his collarbone, smoothed over with another kiss. “Should we stop to bow?” Lan Wangji began to lift his head.

“Absolutely not!” Wei Wuxian grasped at his hair, holding him in place. “We did bow at Lotus Pier, though.” Between the Heavens and the Earth, they had those covered, and the one toward people he could consider his ancestors, as well.

“Then only one bow remains.”

Wei Wuxian grinned at him with sudden mischief. He pulled away far enough to get on his knees on the bed beside Lan Wangji, whose eyes widened.

The only bow left was the one to each other.

Holding his gaze, Lan Wangji reached up and unbound his forehead ribbon, taking it and placing the silver headpiece on Wei Wuxian’s wrist, looping the ribbon until it laced the headpiece in place. He knotted it, raised Wei Wuxian’s hand, and brushed his knuckles with his lips before turning his hand and kissing the headpiece as well.

“My self-regulation is yours,” Lan Wangji murmured.

“Then, allow your Wei Ying to please you,” Wei Wuxian told him, his voice sounding demure when it was more the case that he felt faint with the desire overpowering his body. It couldn’t be called bowing, exactly, but he knelt in front of Lan Wangji and pulled his robes aside with an eager hand as Lan Wangji took off the pair of silver hairpieces that caged his topknot. Wei Wuxian made a noise of frustration when confronted with the ties of Lan Wangji’s trousers. If there was a talisman to dissolve clothes, he would use it on the spot.

Lan Wangji helped, his hands quick and deft. One hand touched Wei Wuxian’s cheek and made him pause in the midst of kneeling to savor the touch of those fingers. He gave them a kiss and finished pushing Lan Wangji’s trousers down enough to be confronted with the length of him, taking his hardness in hand and biting his lip at how much there was.

“Lan Zhan, so much; this is all for me, love?” he murmured, settling himself on Lan Wangji’s thighs as he sat back to make room for both of them on the bed. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to find Lan Wangji so generously endowed, that he was exceptional in this as he was in all other things. It might have been the slightest amount intimidating if Wei Wuxian wasn’t so suffused with the need for him.

He smoothed his hand over the darkening head of Lan Wangji’s cock and ducked down to kiss him there, as well. The color reminded him of a ripe plum. The length curved up from Lan Wangji’s body, and he took a firm hold, licking his lips first before taking the tip of Lan Wangji’s cock into his mouth.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened. The taste of it and the weight on his tongue were unlike anything else. It shouldn’t be, of course, but it was still a surprise. Acting on instinct, he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, inhaling through his nose as liquid flooded the slit on the head of the cock in his mouth. He lapped at it, curious and eager, pleased by the way Lan Wangji pushed a hand through his hair, thighs widening under the embrace of Wei Wuxian’s arms.

He wouldn’t say he liked the taste, exactly, but for the fact that it was Lan Wangji. He had Lan Wangji’s cock in his mouth and so he sucked him down, working the head of it with an insatiable tongue, surfacing for air every now and again to behold his efforts and stroke with his hand before taking him in his mouth again. Wei Wuxian licked and licked at the head and was rewarded with more and more liquid welling up against his tongue. The taste became different, sweeter, and he sucked with increasing eagerness.

The hand in his hair stopped stroking and began to tug gently. Wei Wuxian ignored it, keeping his mouth fastened on the plum-dark head of Lan Wangji’s cock, licking and dragging the broad side of his tongue on that slit to coax more liquid forth. Overcome, he drew more and more into his mouth, trying to see how much he could take on. When it pressed against the back of his throat, he pulled back. He wondered if he could swallow more, as long as he practiced. He rubbed the length in his hand harder, tongued the head, and was rewarded with a flood from Lan Wangji’s cock. It filled up his mouth to the point he had no choice but to swallow.

Wei Wuxian pulled back, hugging Lan Wangji’s thigh with one arm and wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. He was stirred up and satisfied all at the same time. He gazed up at Lan Wangji through heavy-lidded eyes and was treated to the sight of his face gazing down at Wei Wuxian, open and yearning.

“You came already,” Wei Wuxian said, unable to stop the grin that spread all over his face. He rubbed his cheek against the head of Lan Wangji’s cock in a fond gesture. It was still hard and left a sticky kiss on his skin. “Was it good?” He held Lan Wangji’s eyes and turned his head, seeking the tip of that cock with his mouth again.

Lan Wangji made a low noise and rolled him in bed, covering him completely with his body and the overlap of the remaining inner robe. Wei Wuxian chuckled from sheer joy, slipping his hands around Lan Wangji’s naked sides and holding him tight against him as he could. He was definitely excited, his own cock hard in his trousers, but the sensation of Lan Wangji’s body atop his calmed him, put him at ease somehow. He was safer with this man than any on earth.

They kissed again. Lan Wangji pulled back to look at him, expressionless. Before Wei Wuxian could tease him about the taste, Lan Wangji sat up and peeled the rest of his clothes off, returning to him gracefully nude before Wei Wuxian could even struggle out of his own trousers.

Together, they stripped Wei Wuxian out of the remainder of his clothing, while he filed away a later note to consider a talisman that would accomplish the same purpose without burning the skin. Lan Wangji drew him down onto the bed to kiss him, touching his body, reaching for something hidden between the mattress and the wood of the bed frame.

Wei Wuxian had thought Lan Wangji would return the favor by kneeling before him, or perhaps taking him in hand while continuing to plunder his mouth with his tongue, but Lan Wangji settled beside him with a jar of unguent in his hand.

“I know that we need something slippery to have sex. How do you know?” Wei Wuxian said, absolutely not drinking vinegar. All of his own knowledge was theoretical. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, had a great deal more than a year to think about him in that way.

For a moment, he ached, but set it aside with a small smile. All he could do to make up for the loss was give Lan Wangji his everything from that moment forward.

Lan Wangji did not, quite, meet his eye, saying nothing.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whined, pushing at his chest. Not that he’d really shove his way out of his arms; he was exactly where he wanted to be. An uneasy pang went through him. “Did you…have experience?”

That made Lan Wangji’s eyes flash. “I did not,” he stated.

Wei Wuxian sagged against him. He didn’t have any right to be relieved. He kissed Lan Wangji’s throat, hitched himself up to reach his jaw, the side of his chin, the fullness of his mouth. He poured his apology into each small kiss, and Lan Wangji relaxed, turning to him in bed, stroking his body again.

“There isn’t anyone but Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji assured him before claiming his mouth again.

He’d have to set aside the teasing on how Lan Wangji had acquired his knowledge; he’d gone too far. Wei Wuxian was going to wheedle it out of him at some point, though. It was too delicious to think of Lan Wangji educating himself on such matters when, once upon a time, he’d been driven to fury by a single glimpse at a spring book.

He gasped a little as Lan Wangji’s mouth moved down, pausing to bite his neck before going lower than before. One hand secured his waist.

“Are we really going to?” Wei Wuxian said aloud, but he was holding the back of Lan Wangji’s neck, not with any illusion of keeping him there, simply happy to rest a hand on any part of him. When Lan Wangji paused to look at him, Wei Wuxian hastened to say, “I want to! I want to take you inside, Lan Zhan, but will you be able to, so soon...” He trailed off before he could even form a question mark as Lan Wangji rubbed against his leg.

Lan Wangji was hard. Wei Wuxian grinned down at him, unsure whether he ought to be fearful for himself, but he was even more turned on. He tensed and pushed up his hips against Lan Wangji’s weight. “Lan Zhan, you’re so hard still... You want me this much?” He had to let out his moan when Lan Zhan’s lips reached his lower belly. It was close, getting so much closer to where he himself was hard and ready.

When Lan Wangji touched his cock, Wei Wuxian felt his whole body tense.

“Mmn—” He bit down on his lip. Before he could worry about Lan Wangji’s fingers drawing an orgasm out of him, they moved lower. The sound of the jar being uncorked reached him.

He watched Lan Wangji kiss his thigh and kept biting his lip as fingers stroked below his balls, seeking. Sprawled out under Lan Wangji, naked and vulnerable, he watched his love’s face with tightly wound anticipation as a finger was pushed in.

Before he could make a sound, Lan Wangji bent and took Wei Wuxian in his mouth.

He had been avidly watching every movement, each touch, the slow progress of kisses down his front, but Wei Wuxian had to shut his eyes at the intensity of the pleasure that shot through him. He groaned, unable to help moving his hips, but a firm hand on his pelvis stopped him.

“Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan, ahh, Lan Zhan!!” He tossed his head, and his elbow collapsed under him. He lay on his back and moaned at the loss when Lan Wangji’s lips popped off the head of his cock. That was when he realized fingers were moving inside of him, and they felt good in a different way. He stretched his arms above his head and gave himself up to sensation.

It was a good thing Lan Wangji had stopped sucking on him; Wei Wuxian became entirely determined to come when Lan Wangji was inside him for the first time. “That feels strange, but your fingers are so deft inside me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian informed him, trying to push his hips up again.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said.

There was no use in trying to silence him; Wei Wuxian had a voice and he was going to use it on his lover for as long as he couldn’t touch him. “I want more of you inside me,” he goaded. “Ahh, but will it fit? You’re so extravagantly big, Lan Zhan. Really, do you have to be that gifted there, too?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said again, sounding a little more frustrated. His fingers sought deeply, wringing another surprised moan from Wei Wuxian.

“You’ll have to...nnn...shut me up to get me to stop talking,” Wei Wuxian managed to say in between panting breaths.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when Lan Wangji swung halfway up the bed, bracing over him and giving him a savage kiss that was more teeth than tongue. His fingers were still buried within Wei Wuxian, and he flexed them as he silenced Wei Wuxian with his mouth.

Wei Wuxian clutched at a strong shoulder, arching up and opening his legs wider. “More,” he panted, when Lan Wangji let him up for air.

He meant he was ready for Lan Wangji to enter him, but instead another finger was added, and he clenched down on it. Lan Wangji covered his mouth again, moving his fingers in and out. There was plenty of unguent, and the passage was smooth.

As they kissed and Lan Wangji continued to pump his fingers into that delicate part of him, opening him up, Wei Wuxian almost forgot what it was for. He had an arm around the man he loved, his body felt amazing, and heavy kisses consumed his attention. He could keep going forever.

Lan Wangji pulled his fingers out and nuzzled his neck.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said in a complaining tone. He reached up to secure his other shoulder as Lan Wangji shifted into a position on top of him, between his splayed legs. Their eyes met, and Wei Wuxian froze. There was such love and care in Lan Wangji’s gaze, he wanted to cry. He reached up and touched the side of his face; he slid his fingers down and cupped his neck. “Yes. Lan Zhan, yes. In me.”

He raised his legs and Lan Wangji reached down, adjusting their bodies together.

Wei Wuxian ached where Lan Wangji set the hot, rounded head of his cock—not because he was in pain, but because he needed it so badly.

He started to whisper that to Lan Wangji, and his mouth was covered with Lan Wangji’s as he shifted up and his cock slid into Wei Wuxian’s very willing body with the easy movement of his hips.

“Oh,” he gasped into Lan Wangji’s mouth.

Lan Wangji stilled on top of him. “Wei Ying?”

“Don’t stop moving,” Wei Wuxian said, seizing Lan Wangji’s arms and pulling on him to urge him onward. “Keep...oh, yes...keep doing that.” Lan Wangji’s cock was undeniably bigger than his fingers, and there was pain, but Wei Wuxian was long used to ignoring pain, so he fixated on the glorious sensation that sparked all along his spine every time Lan Wangji moved in him. It was rubbing something inside him, too, the tip of him dragging across a part of him that seemed connected to his cock. He throbbed each time Lan Wangji thrust inside him a certain way and brushed against it.

Lan Wangji stretched his neck but didn’t kiss him again. He held his legs up and began to fuck into him with long, steady strokes.

Wei Wuxian rolled his hips down into it, squeezing as best he could where they were joined, gasping as Lan Wangji responded by lunging into him harder, faster. “Oh! Oh! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, ah, you’re so rough! I can’t...can’t withstand it...” Even as his voice faded, he clamped down and held onto him tight enough to make his message clear. Don’t you dare stop.

Lan Wangji kept up his deep, rolling thrusts. Wei Wuxian groaned, pushing down on him. He had never done it before, it was his first time, but he couldn’t imagine any better.

“Perfect, Lan Zhan, you’re perfect,” Wei Wuxian babbled, needing to tell him with words and not only the eager rise of his body. “It’s my first and you make me feel this good...ah!” His words seemed to enflame Lan Wangji, who hiked Wei Wuxian’s legs higher and began to hammer down into him with taut, powerful thrusts.

“Lan Zhan!” was all Wei Wuxian could manage, and he clung for dear life to Lan Wangji’s shoulders as Lan Wangji strove to pound him directly to nirvana.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t entirely sure when he came. He was in Lan Wangji’s arms and they were moving together; the world narrowed to sweat and the slap of their bodies and the brilliance of Lan Wangji’s face focused on him and him alone. For all he knew, he might have come and Lan Wangji kept fucking him through it until his entire body shuddered heavily and he came a second, winded time. He trembled and clung to Lan Wangji as Lan Wangji held himself against him, breathing audibly. He thought, or sensed, he felt the flex of that long, hard cock inside.

He was eased onto his side, legs still around Lan Wangji, facing one another. Lan Wangji was still buried deep in him and appeared disinclined to move.

If he had tried to move, Wei Wuxian would have held onto him. As far as he was concerned, it was far too early to separate.

“So good,” he praised as Lan Wangji got them settled to his satisfaction, looping an arm closely over his side.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji responded, his sweat-limned face serene as Wei Wuxian had ever seen him.

“Are we married now?” Wei Wuxian murmured, nestling against Lan Wangji in pliant languor. He wanted to be closer than close. Lan Wangji’s arm was around him, keeping him exactly where he wanted to be. “I feel married. I’ll bow when I can feel my waist again.” He thought he could laugh with sheer relief, if he wasn’t so exhausted.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said again. He kissed Wei Wuxian’s temple. “Wei Ying is my husband. We’ve consummated.”

Lan Wangji said it, so who could go against Hanguang-Jun?

Wei Wuxian let out a long, trembling breath. He was allowed to have this. He was beside this man; they would share their lives. Whether they walked together, or separately for a little while, he had somewhere he belonged.

When Lan Wangji moved to withdraw, Wei Wuxian began to protest but thought better of it. What if, inside Wei Wuxian, he stayed hard and wanted to go again? That gave Wei Wuxian a little shiver, and he cooperated as Lan Wangji disengaged with care, supporting him with one hand. He tried to lift up a bit as Lan Wangji moved down the bed to examine between his legs but gave that thought for lost when his waist and back twinged. Someday, when it wasn’t his first time, he was willing to bet he could get Lan Wangji to stay in him and go again.

“We...we need to do that a lot more, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said. “At least every day. Build up my stamina. Make Lan Zhan feel good.”

Lan Wangji patted his leg before getting up from the bed. “Wei Ying is very good.”

That made Wei Wuxian exhale a weak chuckle toward the ceiling. He turned his head to track Lan Wangji’s naked progress through the Jingshi. He fetched them water and returned, passing the cup over to Wei Wuxian, drinking his own, and returning both cups to their shelf before rejoining Wei Wuxian in bed.

Before he could draw Lan Wangji back into his arms, a voice intruded.

“Hanguang-Jun,” a young male voice called from what sounded like the vicinity of the courtyard.

Wei Wuxian looked at Lan Wangji in surprise, only to see the same on his husband’s face. He’d been under the impression that no one approached the Jingshi without Lan Wangji’s permission.

The surprise shifted to a flash of extreme displeasure before Lan Wangji’s face smoothed into its typical neutrality. “I will be back.” He got up from the bed.

Their bed, Wei Wuxian mused, rolling back on the mattress and relaxing as he watched Lan Wangji dress with abrupt, stiff movements.

He held up his wrist. “Your ribbon.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes met his over his shoulder. “Keep it for now.”

Wei Wuxian gave him a lazy, happy smile and watched him go. He stayed where he was until the door shut, then scrambled up and started to bound toward the door for the purposes of shameless eavesdropping.

Started to. His legs gave out, his waist cramped, and he had to put both hands to his lower back to stop it from complaining before he was able to straighten up. Lesson learned. His body became an overcooked noodle after sex with Hanguang-Jun. It was clear to Wei Wuxian he needed a lot more practice. He made his way to the door with a great deal more care and put his eye to the crack as he pulled it open far enough to see.

A junior disciple stood at the very edge of the yard, not standing within, but close enough to have called for Lan Wangji. “—Grandmaster was very concerned that you have returned, but he has not yet seen you.”

Lan Wangji’s reply was inaudible but made the junior disciple’s eyes go wide.

“H-Hanguang-Jun,” the junior disciple stammered. “How can I deliver such a message to Grandmaster?”

Lan Wangji spoke for a short moment longer, turned his back on the junior disciple, and walked toward the Jingshi with a resolute face. Wei Wuxian had a brief instant to register the dismay on the hapless junior disciple’s face and tore himself away from the door, limping back to the bed as fast as he was able.

Wei Wuxian managed to get into a casual sprawl by the time Lan Wangji slid the door open. “Oh, you’re back already.”

Lan Wangji looked at him in that very particular way that let Wei Wuxian know he had been onto him for years and the past few moments were no different.

Wei Wuxian smirked. Well, it was always worth playing the game, even when he lost. He got himself up onto an elbow. “You’re not going to see Grandmaster Qiren?”

“He can wait,” Lan Wangji said shortly.

Wei Wuxian clutched his hand to his chest and was distracted by the ribbon still bound around his wrist. “Oh, that must be what you told that poor junior. This is what happens when you leave your self-regulation with me.”

Lan Wangji responded to that by stripping his robes off, climbing back into bed, and kissing him senseless.

Afterward, when Lan Wangji had claimed his full share of kisses and Wei Wuxian had taken plenty extra, they laid in one another’s arms. Wei Wuxian’s eyes were hazy with sleep and he was on the verge of dropping off when Lan Wangji spoke in a low, contemplative voice.

“When you left, I hoped I’d get word. That it wouldn’t be long. That I would know where you were. I wanted to see you again.” His voice dwindled to a whisper. “When you didn’t write, I thought my hopes pointless.”

Wei Wuxian took Lan Wangji’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I did write,” he admitted in the same low tone.

Lan Wangji shifted against him. “You did?”

Wei Wuxian blinked up at the ceiling. He really had been too stupid. He had managed to assume too much, yet far too little, at the same time. “A saddlebag’s worth,” he said, barely audible. “I didn’t have the nerve to send them.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji sounded worse than disappointed. He sounded pained.

“How could I have the audacity to address you in that way?” Wei Wuxian tried to keep his tone light. “But, for all I couldn’t send them, I kept every single one.”

“May I see them?”

“Mn,” Wei Wuxian replied. He shifted his tone to one of teasing. “If you’ll tell me the name of that song!”

Lan Wangji’s arm tightened around him. “WuJi.” No hesitation.

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, feeling the cut of that keenly. “For that long,” he whispered. He turned in Lan Wangji’s arms, kissing his shoulder, the line of his collarbone, stretching to place reverent lips on his throat. “I’m yours. From now on, I’m all yours. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give it for you, I’ll do it.”

“Be mine,” Lan Wangji said. “That’s all I want.”

His fingers cupped Wei Wuxian’s jaw, lifting his face up, and they kissed again.

Lan Wangji turned to face him in bed, and as Wei Wuxian shifted his body to adjust against him, hardness pressed against his belly.

“Lan Zhan! Again?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, aghast but also delighted. He hadn’t thought it possible to come as many times as they already had over the course of one afternoon.

“Again,” Lan Wangji replied, and firm lips sought his.

There was nothing to do for it but to make love again.

This time, Lan Wangji put him on his side, twining around him from behind and taking his mouth as he eased into him. The angle was different, more intense, but Lan Wangji thrust into Wei Wuxian with every bit as much vigor, holding him by the hip and touching him. He rocked him full of demanding strokes of his cock, never stopping until they reached their mutual completion.

Wei Wuxian unraveled in a panting, sticky, overwhelmingly happy mess in his embrace. Lan Wangji had to turn him around on his own; he was too limp to move any part of his body. Pressed chest to chest, legs tangled, they fell asleep.

Vague impressions of a voice, of lips against his forehead, stirred him almost to the point of waking, but Wei Wuxian pulled sleep back around him like a blanket, sinking down into it again. He dreamed of water lapping around him, drifted off, and gave a sleepy complaint when a towel rubdown brought him to the edge of waking again. He dozed again.

“…Ying. Wei Ying.” A hand combed through his hair.

“Hmm?” Wei Wuxian gave a long, luxurious stretch, coming to an awareness of being sore and sated, but his stomach was rumbling again. He opened one eye, looked up at Lan Wangji, who was seated beside him with a relaxed expression on his face. He smiled. “Am I dreaming?”

Lan Wangji stroked his jaw, fingers curling down toward his neck. “You are not.” There was amusement in his voice, a lightness that Wei Wuxian had never heard before, which made him think even more that it was a dream. “Though difficult to wake.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile widened. He lay there beaming at Lan Wangji. “Then we really…?”

“Wei Ying is my husband,” Lan Wangji said, and bent to kiss him in bed.

“Mmm!” His arm went around Lan Wangji’s neck and he tried to pull him down, but Lan Wangji was far stronger. He broke the kiss and sat up, draping Wei Wuxian’s new inner robe over his waist.

“Time to eat breakfast,” Lan Wangji told him, rising and heading for the low table where they had eaten the previous day.

Wei Wuxian grumbled, but the angle of the light told him he’d definitely slept late enough by his own standards and far beyond the pale for a Lan. He shrugged into the sleek, fine material of the inner robe, smoothing it down, and caught sight of Lan Wangji’s ribbon still bound securely around his wrist. With a smile, he joined Lan Wangji at the table, seating himself and pressing his lips to the ribbon when he caught his eye.

“I know I can’t hold onto it forever, but I love that you’ve entrusted it into my care,” Wei Wuxian said, smoothing one end of the ribbon down and smiling at—his husband? Yes, Lan Wangji was his husband, even if they never observed any wider ceremony.

Lan Wangji regarded him with an open look. “I have something for you.”

“To bribe me to give it back freely?” Wei Wuxian said with a laugh, clasping his hand over the ribbon again. He cocked his head. “A present, for me? But you’ve given me so many.”

“I will spoil Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji asserted, a familiar stubbornness coming over his face.

“All right,” Wei Wuxian gave in. He could always resist more next time. Curiosity was at the forefront.

Lan Wangji turned to the side and produced a velvet pouch that had been hidden behind the table. He set it between them. “I meant this for you sooner.”

Wei Wuxian picked it up. The pouch was very light. He pulled the mouth open, drawing in a long, appreciative breath as he extracted a fine jade token on a thin cord. Unlike Lan Wangji’s, it was red jade, threaded on a black tassel that could be tucked into his belt. His eyes met Lan Wangji’s. “A token of passage.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “I thought it wouldn’t be needed.” He looked to the side, mouth flattening. “Thought I’d return with Wei Ying.”

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said. He dismissed the rejection at the gate with a wave of his hand. “That’s how I pictured it too, you know. I thought next time I came back to the Cloud Recesses, it would be together.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth firmed. “You’ll never be denied again.”

Wei Wuxian laid the fine piece of red jade in his open palm. He intended to see they wouldn’t be separated; at least, not for a long time. But the token meant that he belonged.

If not to the Cloud Recesses, then to Lan Wangji. He was more than good with that.

“This almost makes me want to get dressed after breakfast, so that I can tuck it in my belt,” Wei Wuxian said, giving his husband a mischievous smile. “Almost.”

“Marital relations in daylight?” Lan Wangji regarded him with that prim Lan expression. He would never again accuse his husband of being humorless.

Wei Wuxian raised his beribboned wrist, smile widening to a grin. “You’ve entrusted your self-regulation to me, and I say we’re allowed.”

The look Lan Wangji gave him then could only be described as warm. “I promised to spoil Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian settled in beside him, slipping his token of passage back into the pouch for safekeeping. “And I promised you whatever you want. As your husband, I’d better stay right here, by your side.”