( Mao-shi comes, and the wakefulness is inevitable. He stirs, amused to find young Yuan already clumsily fumbling in his footsteps, requiring help to reach the bathing bowls. Lan Wangji walks him through it, then himself, then both through layering — grateful for the loaned winter clothes to outfit the child for the purpose of Cloud Recesses vast snow-down.
In the end, within two hours he has surrendered the child, first to the canteen for breakfast, then his minder. For all his other duties, Zewu-Jun has gladly committed to spiriting him away for lunch. And Lan Wangji can dally in the library, intent to riddle the nuances of the question before him: just how are lovers pleased?
He returns, flush-faced, armed with a few salves shamefully relieved from the clan's healer under distinctly false pretences, prepared to face his husband and prattle his discoveries — only to find Wei Ying still gloriously asleep. Left to comfort, he truly will sink in and sleep the day away.
Beside him, Lan Wangji settles by the bed, reviewing the scant few brazen materials with suggestions for the... act, inevitably between husbands and wives. He startles as Wei Ying stirs, offering out his hand to the figure collapsed in bed. )
[As he clings to Lan Zhan's hand, he notes that Yuan is gone now, likely off to his new friends that he spends his days playing with. A shame that he didn't get to have breakfast with the child, especially when he's likely going to be with Lan Xichen for the rest of the day, but there will be other times.
He hopes there will be other times that he wakes up and see his son's smile from across the room.]
( They spent, after all, far too much of the previous day assailed by nerves. Whether anticipating the elders' verdict or simply doused in their own conflict — they grew were worn down.
Now, Wei Ying seems softer, fonder, coming together again. Stitching himself back and slowly shedding the marks of his own exhaustion. Pretty creature. Perhaps fleetingly thriving. )
Your meal was brought. ( Already, helpfully held warm with the help of a talisman, bowls covered by the low table. ) Cleanse, eat. The day is yours.
Mm. [Following his nose, Wei Wuxian crawls out of bed and wobbles his way to the table laden with food, clinging to Lan Zhan as far as he's allowed. But even if his body is still waking up, his mind has sharpened quickly.]
You mean the day is ours.
[If left to his own devices, he might set something on fire with his experiments, even if they don't involve fire or heat at all. But no, has plans. He has made plans with his husband, they were mutually agreed upon. Their son will be out for the day, their little house will have only them, and there are no other demand son their persons. The day is theirs.]
( Theirs, with purpose. It feels, perhaps, a little unromantic that they have isolated and assigned an act that requires a certain degree of impulsiveness and brewing need to a specific day. As if, he cannot help but feel, some part of it is a chore.
But then, it would have been so if they entangled in consummation as grooms brokered by a sect's arrangement. Cultivators of rank seldom choose their time.
They sit, and he watches Wei Ying slowly come back to himself, taking ownership of the bowls and beginning the fine dance of filling out his husband's bowls, offering him his choice of feeding. )
The day is ours. ( An easy concession. ) Be at ease.
[Given his stomach's rumbling, Wei Wuxian doesn't decline any food his husband offers him, no matter how bland. Everything's bland to him anyway, he misses chili oil so much.]
I'm looking forward to it though, Lan Zhan. [Deliberately breaking a rule.] I've been waiting for this for so long!
[But first, he wants to eat. Amazing how much he can put away without a child distracting him.]
( If he raises his brow, incredulously, may he be forgiven. He knew he had wedded the Patriarch, but perhaps not a complete lout. To think, speaking during breakfast.
Still, he hasn't the heart to correct Wei Ying's dire transgression, past this gentle signal of that which should not be done. Shame. For shame. )
[Lan Zhan's only response to both the pointed look and the declaration is a grin full of mischief, silently asking if Lan Zhan is thinking dirty thoughts, before Wei Wuxian busies himself with the rest of his meal.
By the end of it, his bowl is surprisingly clean and he sighs in satisfaction.]
( There, attending to himself. Never Wei Ying's natural state, but a beloved concessipn Lan Wangji thanks him with slow, careful nods. Then, bowls cleared, Wei Ying wants the whereabouts of his child, and —
Ah. Lan Wangji's head bows low, silent. He hesitates. )
Apologies. Proceeded without permission. ( He is, after all, barely an intruder in the cosmos of their lives. ) Today, the children learn to grind cinnabar.
Ohh. For talismans, you mean? [As if brushing the apology away-- no need for it, after all. Yuan could do with more exposure to the outside, and more time with his little friends.]
Aiya, I wish I could have been there, I have so many talismans in the middle of development, I could have helped oversee the children. [Though he highly prefers teaching the little ones rather than helping someone else do so. Not that anyone would allow him to do so around here, even if it's something he's uniquely qualified in, such as talismans.]
Perhaps one day, I won't be chased away from the classroom.
( Though they both know the truth of it: Wei Ying's unparalleled mastery will want the closely scrutinized vetting of the school's entire spate of masters, before he is permitted. Once, Cloud Recesses commanded a tutoring fee for its instruction. Even past concerns over Wei Ying's orthodox, what's at stake is the reputation of Gusu Lan.
He could rise to that standard, Lan Wangji anticipates, just as the great, the infallible, the far too dignified Hanguang-Jun now learns husbandry duties, all in preparation to attend to the family he hopes to retain. Even now, he is slowly but carefully piling away the bowls and readying the treys for collection. )
Yes, yes. Today is not for work. [There's one more line he could say, but there's no need to, is there?]
I'll go get washed. [He stands with some difficulty, his limbs having gone soft and sleepy after the meal. Nevertheless, he manages to give Lan Zhan a coy look through his eyelashes, trying to seem seductive. As if he knows how to do so, and has practice in it instead of just reading naughty books.] I'm sure my husband would want this one clean.
[And he wants to at least make a good impression, which means cleaning and grooming the broom he calls hair.]
( Not for work, though courtesans might disagree. Certainly, however, they have yet to reach that proficiency of service. And will they? Can they? He hopes he will neither shame himself, nor put Wei Ying off the experience. They've only the one chance.
He nods, stiffly, overcome with the start of doubt, of nerves. Perhaps they should have delayed longer, bidden their time until they'd consulted more scrolls, healers, elders. Surely... surely, they should not be venturing into passion without —
His mouth is dry, gaze distant. He shudders. )
Wei Ying. Perhaps... if we require more time. We need not hasten.
[That comes from the hallway, Wei Wuxian not returning to the room yet. He's not going to either, because he really does need a bath. And even if Lan Zhan doesn't want to do anything with him right now, he can keep his appearance until night. Maybe.]
Do you want to put it off until tonight? [You, not us. He's quite ready, he thinks. Maybe.
At least he's not taking this as a slight against him, like the previous times Lan Zhan started something only to take several steps back.]
( To put it off. Will it help, will it hinder? Certainly, the butterflies in his stomach won't be dispelled, he suspects, until the deed is done. Until, as with his debut with sword flight or in duels, he has attempted the art with his two hands.
But will waiting truly improve his odds of success? Or will rushing in condemn Wei Ying to potential sickness or wounding, as a result of Lan Wangji's manhandling?
He hesitates, discomfort with conversing on such a matter never more clear than when his gaze lands and lingers on the hard floor, without trailing after his husband. )
[Oh, his poor husband, suffering from his own imagination. Wei Wuxian won't lie, he has some concerns too, like, well. He's clearly not a woman so it might be tough for him, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to try. But clearly, Lan Zhan's worries are stronger.]
Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan. Don't worry about the mights and the maybes.
It will be our first time, why expect it to be perfect immediately?
( Because the thought of failing Wei Ying, of not meeting his wants and needs, is ruinous. Because it aches him, this need to be more, better, complete.
He cannot offer Wei Ying anything less than perfection. It would damn him, damn them, destroy them in parts and whole. Imagine: if Wei Ying were so put off by this singular experience that he never wanted to partake of it again. Would Lan Wangji bear it? He suspects, no matter their inexperience, he will enjoy owning this intimacy with his husband. )
Dear, dear husband. You're worrying about something that might not come to pass. We're both so new to this! We haven't learned anything yet! Why expect perfection?
[Such lofty words from someone who has gotten high marks in all of his classes... but this is not class and they're not being graded on their performance in bed. He thinks people would lose their minds if such a thing was available, anyway.]
Besides, if you fuck the way you kiss, I think you'll do just fine. [Using vulgar words to shock Lan Zhan? Yes. But also, why use any euphemisms?]
( The word. That word. Certainly, no elegance, no euphemism, not even the crudest of poetic lines. Really. This creature knows nothing of style, even if they are dressing the most base of substances. )
Wei Wuxian.
( He flushes, and it's a deep thing, burning. He flushes, and it's partly born of the understanding that Wei Ying thinks... positively of their kissing experiences so far. Ah.
Yes. Yes, he too has enjoyed this. And perhaps, if they navigate the next step in their union with equal enthusiasm, they can overcome their lack of refinement. )
[He lets out an ugly cackle in response-- he definitely accomplished what he set out to do when he said that word. Now Lan Zhan is all riled up, which is a step above worrying about sex and his performance as a virgin.]
Sorry Lan Zhan, but I still have to get clean! [And he starts running towards the bathing area. Hopefully the water is still warm.]
( Was it not this man, this terrible person, this fiend, this cunning monster, who said, not one day gone, that he wished for Lan Wangji to cease his teasing? And now, what does he do?
Ah, but Wei Ying is the antithesis of consistency, a creature made entirely tame only by wine-brokered lethargy. Now, Lan Wangji may only watch him disappear, scowl deepened, intent to hiss and tell him not to bother returning —
Before he's out of the room completely, and oh, Lan Wangji can't help himself. A smile dampens the line of his lips, teasing. Happily, wholly unseen. )
[Wei Wuxian wants to say something to that, but that would delay his bath, and in turn delay him seeing Lan Zhan again. It might make even the patient Hanguang-jun impatient, and no one wants that.
... Except perhaps his incorrigible husband. Though he can explore that later. Right now, he wants to stick to his original plan, as basic as it is.
So all he does is laugh even more as he disrobes.
He scrubs himself hard to get clean quicker, giving more attention to his hair and his, well, parts between the legs, before he dresses in a single layer and heads immediately to Lan Zhan's vanity to groom himself more. Primp and preen, and oil his hair. Make it sleek and shiny rather than dry and near-brittle.
This is how he chooses to appear in front of Lan Zhan. Hair oiled and loosely braided, and only in one layer of soft blue robes he snatched from his husband's wardrobe. And then he raises an eyebrow, waiting for his response.]
No compliment for the healthy sheen of his flushed skin, the rich dark of his tresses, the bright wild white of his eyes. Not the plush of his mouth or the graceful descent of his limbs, or the narrowness of his hips and his dainty waist, and how Lan Wangji watches him, watches everything — hungry.
He has never wanted as he wants this man.
Hardly so strange, then, that he falls in their tired habits of stifling his desire, gaze turning away. )
Wei Ying pleases every eye. ( He cannot lie, but he can at least not give Wei Ying too much satisfaction. He will not preen. ) He knows so.
[He preens, of course, knowing that he's still somewhat attractive. He used to be insufferable over being one of the most eligible young masters, even if that list makes him laugh.
Though Wei Wuxian would never ever welcome any overture that isn't his husband's. Perhaps if he wasn't married he'd have continued to flirt with anyone without caring, but he has Lan Zhan.
He takes that seriously and has no interest in playing with jealousy like in the books.]
But I want compliments and attention from only one man. [He beckons with one quick motion of the hand.] Come here, Lan Zhan.
( Did I not call upon you first? Should it not be the blushing, demure bride, who glides toward her husband?
But this is no true submissive spouse, and Lan Wangji has ever been enthralled, finding himself on his feet and navigating the room before he has even solidified his thoughts. He is beautiful, his Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, his Wei Ying. Beautiful and charming and strong, in ways Lan Wangji wants to promote and prosper, sooner than dim and contain.
He inches closer, hand out in soft invitation, begging permission to touch. To claim. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
In the end, within two hours he has surrendered the child, first to the canteen for breakfast, then his minder. For all his other duties, Zewu-Jun has gladly committed to spiriting him away for lunch. And Lan Wangji can dally in the library, intent to riddle the nuances of the question before him: just how are lovers pleased?
He returns, flush-faced, armed with a few salves shamefully relieved from the clan's healer under distinctly false pretences, prepared to face his husband and prattle his discoveries — only to find Wei Ying still gloriously asleep. Left to comfort, he truly will sink in and sleep the day away.
Beside him, Lan Wangji settles by the bed, reviewing the scant few brazen materials with suggestions for the... act, inevitably between husbands and wives. He startles as Wei Ying stirs, offering out his hand to the figure collapsed in bed. )
Here. ( He will always be here. )
no subject
He hopes there will be other times that he wakes up and see his son's smile from across the room.]
Did I sleep that late?
no subject
( They spent, after all, far too much of the previous day assailed by nerves. Whether anticipating the elders' verdict or simply doused in their own conflict — they grew were worn down.
Now, Wei Ying seems softer, fonder, coming together again. Stitching himself back and slowly shedding the marks of his own exhaustion. Pretty creature. Perhaps fleetingly thriving. )
Your meal was brought. ( Already, helpfully held warm with the help of a talisman, bowls covered by the low table. ) Cleanse, eat. The day is yours.
no subject
You mean the day is ours.
[If left to his own devices, he might set something on fire with his experiments, even if they don't involve fire or heat at all. But no, has plans. He has made plans with his husband, they were mutually agreed upon. Their son will be out for the day, their little house will have only them, and there are no other demand son their persons. The day is theirs.]
no subject
But then, it would have been so if they entangled in consummation as grooms brokered by a sect's arrangement. Cultivators of rank seldom choose their time.
They sit, and he watches Wei Ying slowly come back to himself, taking ownership of the bowls and beginning the fine dance of filling out his husband's bowls, offering him his choice of feeding. )
The day is ours. ( An easy concession. ) Be at ease.
no subject
I'm looking forward to it though, Lan Zhan. [Deliberately breaking a rule.] I've been waiting for this for so long!
[But first, he wants to eat. Amazing how much he can put away without a child distracting him.]
no subject
Still, he hasn't the heart to correct Wei Ying's dire transgression, past this gentle signal of that which should not be done. Shame. For shame. )
Draw your strength. You may yet require it.
no subject
By the end of it, his bowl is surprisingly clean and he sighs in satisfaction.]
Haaa~ Good, good. Lan Zhan, where's the baby?
no subject
Ah. Lan Wangji's head bows low, silent. He hesitates. )
Apologies. Proceeded without permission. ( He is, after all, barely an intruder in the cosmos of their lives. ) Today, the children learn to grind cinnabar.
no subject
Aiya, I wish I could have been there, I have so many talismans in the middle of development, I could have helped oversee the children. [Though he highly prefers teaching the little ones rather than helping someone else do so. Not that anyone would allow him to do so around here, even if it's something he's uniquely qualified in, such as talismans.]
Perhaps one day, I won't be chased away from the classroom.
no subject
( Though they both know the truth of it: Wei Ying's unparalleled mastery will want the closely scrutinized vetting of the school's entire spate of masters, before he is permitted. Once, Cloud Recesses commanded a tutoring fee for its instruction. Even past concerns over Wei Ying's orthodox, what's at stake is the reputation of Gusu Lan.
He could rise to that standard, Lan Wangji anticipates, just as the great, the infallible, the far too dignified Hanguang-Jun now learns husbandry duties, all in preparation to attend to the family he hopes to retain. Even now, he is slowly but carefully piling away the bowls and readying the treys for collection. )
Give them less thought.
no subject
I'll go get washed. [He stands with some difficulty, his limbs having gone soft and sleepy after the meal. Nevertheless, he manages to give Lan Zhan a coy look through his eyelashes, trying to seem seductive. As if he knows how to do so, and has practice in it instead of just reading naughty books.] I'm sure my husband would want this one clean.
[And he wants to at least make a good impression, which means cleaning and grooming the broom he calls hair.]
no subject
He nods, stiffly, overcome with the start of doubt, of nerves. Perhaps they should have delayed longer, bidden their time until they'd consulted more scrolls, healers, elders. Surely... surely, they should not be venturing into passion without —
His mouth is dry, gaze distant. He shudders. )
Wei Ying. Perhaps... if we require more time. We need not hasten.
no subject
[That comes from the hallway, Wei Wuxian not returning to the room yet. He's not going to either, because he really does need a bath. And even if Lan Zhan doesn't want to do anything with him right now, he can keep his appearance until night. Maybe.]
Do you want to put it off until tonight? [You, not us. He's quite ready, he thinks. Maybe.
At least he's not taking this as a slight against him, like the previous times Lan Zhan started something only to take several steps back.]
no subject
But will waiting truly improve his odds of success? Or will rushing in condemn Wei Ying to potential sickness or wounding, as a result of Lan Wangji's manhandling?
He hesitates, discomfort with conversing on such a matter never more clear than when his gaze lands and lingers on the hard floor, without trailing after his husband. )
I fear your injury. Or your — dissatisfaction.
no subject
Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan. Don't worry about the mights and the maybes.
It will be our first time, why expect it to be perfect immediately?
no subject
( Because the thought of failing Wei Ying, of not meeting his wants and needs, is ruinous. Because it aches him, this need to be more, better, complete.
He cannot offer Wei Ying anything less than perfection. It would damn him, damn them, destroy them in parts and whole. Imagine: if Wei Ying were so put off by this singular experience that he never wanted to partake of it again. Would Lan Wangji bear it? He suspects, no matter their inexperience, he will enjoy owning this intimacy with his husband. )
And if you are disappointed?
no subject
[Such lofty words from someone who has gotten high marks in all of his classes... but this is not class and they're not being graded on their performance in bed. He thinks people would lose their minds if such a thing was available, anyway.]
Besides, if you fuck the way you kiss, I think you'll do just fine. [Using vulgar words to shock Lan Zhan? Yes. But also, why use any euphemisms?]
no subject
Wei Wuxian.
( He flushes, and it's a deep thing, burning. He flushes, and it's partly born of the understanding that Wei Ying thinks... positively of their kissing experiences so far. Ah.
Yes. Yes, he too has enjoyed this. And perhaps, if they navigate the next step in their union with equal enthusiasm, they can overcome their lack of refinement. )
...come here.
no subject
Sorry Lan Zhan, but I still have to get clean! [And he starts running towards the bathing area. Hopefully the water is still warm.]
no subject
Ah, but Wei Ying is the antithesis of consistency, a creature made entirely tame only by wine-brokered lethargy. Now, Lan Wangji may only watch him disappear, scowl deepened, intent to hiss and tell him not to bother returning —
Before he's out of the room completely, and oh, Lan Wangji can't help himself. A smile dampens the line of his lips, teasing. Happily, wholly unseen. )
See that you are not lost on your way.
no subject
... Except perhaps his incorrigible husband. Though he can explore that later. Right now, he wants to stick to his original plan, as basic as it is.
So all he does is laugh even more as he disrobes.
He scrubs himself hard to get clean quicker, giving more attention to his hair and his, well, parts between the legs, before he dresses in a single layer and heads immediately to Lan Zhan's vanity to groom himself more. Primp and preen, and oil his hair. Make it sleek and shiny rather than dry and near-brittle.
This is how he chooses to appear in front of Lan Zhan. Hair oiled and loosely braided, and only in one layer of soft blue robes he snatched from his husband's wardrobe. And then he raises an eyebrow, waiting for his response.]
no subject
No compliment for the healthy sheen of his flushed skin, the rich dark of his tresses, the bright wild white of his eyes. Not the plush of his mouth or the graceful descent of his limbs, or the narrowness of his hips and his dainty waist, and how Lan Wangji watches him, watches everything — hungry.
He has never wanted as he wants this man.
Hardly so strange, then, that he falls in their tired habits of stifling his desire, gaze turning away. )
Wei Ying pleases every eye. ( He cannot lie, but he can at least not give Wei Ying too much satisfaction. He will not preen. ) He knows so.
no subject
[He preens, of course, knowing that he's still somewhat attractive. He used to be insufferable over being one of the most eligible young masters, even if that list makes him laugh.
Though Wei Wuxian would never ever welcome any overture that isn't his husband's. Perhaps if he wasn't married he'd have continued to flirt with anyone without caring, but he has Lan Zhan.
He takes that seriously and has no interest in playing with jealousy like in the books.]
But I want compliments and attention from only one man. [He beckons with one quick motion of the hand.] Come here, Lan Zhan.
no subject
But this is no true submissive spouse, and Lan Wangji has ever been enthralled, finding himself on his feet and navigating the room before he has even solidified his thoughts. He is beautiful, his Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, his Wei Ying. Beautiful and charming and strong, in ways Lan Wangji wants to promote and prosper, sooner than dim and contain.
He inches closer, hand out in soft invitation, begging permission to touch. To claim. )
May I have you? ( A simple thing. )
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)