( ...show him. And he eases, he allows, he slips to the side until he's supported on one elbow, his silks gently parting. He only breaks his posture fleetingly to do away with his trousers, slipping them loose.
Then, carefully, biding his time, he reaches out to offer the captive pot of salve to Wei Ying, so that he might be shown the way of this obscure learning. And yet, on the way of things, murmured: )
How did you learn? ( He suspects, not from books. Frowns, because the possibility of Wei Ying picking up his instruction from more than gossip, of having partaken of such intimacy with another man — it fills him with a jealousy that burns brighter than his gaze should. That overwhelms him. )
Oh? Oh? [Is he getting that tone? Is this jealousy?
Lan Zhan's first tone of jealousy?
So cute!]
Jealous, Lan Zhan? Are you getting jealous of my own hand, my own bed, my nightly emissions? [He reaches out and gives his husband a few taps on the nose.]
I told you, didn't I? I used to wake up hard, and of course I couldn't just wake outside and begin my day with something so unsightly. You should be pleased with me, I learned this by myself with only books to help, and now you get to reap rewards!
[And by "rewards" he means a hot touch to the length Wei Wuxian had been stroking earlier, his motions smoother now because of the salve all over his palm and fingers, and Lan Zhan's new, more accessible position.]
( Oh. Oh, but this pleases him, ardor stoking, the slow, measured thrust of his hips chasing Wei Ying's pleasantly teasing hand, the worship of his stroke. He groans with it, half-bitten, half released for Wei Ying's pleasure of knowing his own.
He says nothing, for the longest time. Lives the moment, eyes slowly shutting, his own need visible in the incremental, slow push of his hips attuned to Wei Ying's ministrations. Then, finally, he catches his husband's wrist and removing his hand, gaze burning as he moves to return the favor, dipping his own fingertips in the salve.
Less masterfully, but eager, he catches Wei Ying's length in his hand, applying himself with the same biting cruelty of his lover, choking it in hand. )
Not unsightly. Never unsightly. ( A correction. ) You are beautiful.
[He just says these things and is unaware of what they do to Wei Wuxian. Terrible for his heart, more deadly than the motions of his hands. Though that might be more because his hands are not experienced.]
Ooh, Lan-er-gege, you romantic...
[Lan Zhan may have moved his hand off, but Wei Wuxian returns it as soon as it's freed. And then he presses himself against his husband, bodies connected, ankles intertwined, stroking each other to completion in this bed.]
( Together, then. And it's good, to work to purpose, to make of himself the instrument of Wei Ying's passion, to satisfy his husband. They strain tirelessly, strokes even, the wild, punching thrust of their hips frantic, Lan Wangji's mouth mean as it sketches heaving pledges near the lobe of Wei Ying's ear.
He latches as he can, onto what is given to him, Wei Ying's neck, his shoulder, his upper arm, his cheek. Teeth grazing, before unforgivably, with a last, barely-there stroke of Wei Ying's own arousal, he surrenders to his pleasure, wetting Wei Ying's hand with his seed, as a low, heady moan spills from within him.
He sighs, forehead falling onto Wei Ying's shoulder, his eyes shutting. Breathes, barely remembering as his hips convulse, to chase his husband's own satisfaction with slowed, stronger strokes. )
[Lan Zhan in the throes of orgasm is a sight to behold. Wei Wuxian momentarily forgets all about his pleasure just to watch him, that heavy cock dripping all over his hand and wrist.
And the way his name is being called? Too much, too much.
He finishes as well, much louder than Lan Zhan had, crying out his pleasure as his legs tighten around his husband's. A quick and sudden end that leaves him panting in Lan Zhan's arms and blinking up at him blearily.]
Lan Zhan... [A soft whine, followed by a turn of his head towards the man's mouth. He wants a kiss.]
( Wet warmth, their bones molten. Musk blooming. He clings to Wei Ying as if he is a lifeline, the core his husband surrendered. His head hangs low, forehead slipping onto Wei Ying's clavicle mouth soft and blossoming bruises across whatever stretch of skin he can reach.
He feels at once consumed and reinvigorated, overwhelmed and wanting. For a moment, they were complete, one body, one heart, one beat, one pulse of need. He nudges Wei Ying with his nose, soft, until they converge again, their mouths meeting without deepening the kiss.
[He'll take that to mean it was good-- that's one question he doesn't need to ask.
He wraps his arms and legs around Lan Zhan like he's unwilling to let him go, even as they part from the kiss to breathe.]
You want more? [Likely not. Lan Zhan sounds like a swimmer who pushed himself too hard. Wei Wuxian himself feels winded, and is surprised at that-- he used to get himself off before and yet has never felt this tired. Is it because he did it with Lan Zhan? Is it because Lan Zhan was the one touching him instead of him working on himself alone?]
( And does he? Wei Ying's latched onto him like a barnacle, a sheath. And Lan Wangji feels... alive for it, if at once somnolent, molten and lovingly embraced, but more aware of himself and of his lover than ever before.
Have they... consummated? Will the elders recognize the deed of their marriage now done? He suspects there will always be accusations that Lan Wangji was lured into his wedding bed under false pretences. That Wei Ying made use of his numerous tricks to deceive and pervert him.
Foolish, in this. In more, but Lan Wangji's mouth will not speak that ugliness against them. Finally, he rolls them onto their sides, not quite easing Wei Ying's legs off him, but allowing them degrees of relaxation. )
We have time. Let me see you. ( Like this, flushed, attentive, keen. Young. One day, perhaps, in love. ) You are beautiful.
[Later, then. Wei Wuxian will accept that, relaxing into Lan Zhan's arms.
Though with Lan Zhan's insistence on looking at him, he can't turn his head in order to cover up the flush that colors his grey, pale face.]
Not handsome? Aiya, my husband doesn't think I am handsome? [There's no real heat in his tone, simply complaining to complain. And because he's embarrassed that Lan Zhan can just see everything, Wei Wuxian having no place to hide.
( He murmurs it and meets Wei Ying's wife, and he is a content beast, a tame thing, willing. He feels alive for Wei Ying's presence nearby, brought to his knees by the peaceful edge of his gaze, by their mutual satisfaction.
His hand goes over Wei Ying's where it can, draws it close. He wants everything his husband would give now and forever. Sleepiness envelops him. He breathes. )
[Lan Zhan, taking a nap so early in the day? How indulgent! But Wei Wuxian doesn't blame him, even he's tired from all their fun, just not to the point of needing some shut-eye. But he can stand to rest for a bit. Just a bit, until his brain starts to work again and he needs to write things down lest he forgets forever.
He reaches out with his free hand, first patting their joined hands, then smoothing over Lan Zhan's side, as if patting him to sleep.]
Lan Zhan, you're cute. I was always yours. [And he wants to assume that Lan Zhan is completely his, in turn.]
( And perhaps it's an unkindness to say so, speaking words they'd both wish left untouched, revisiting a past at times unkindly. They were not always blessed with understanding, between Lan Wangji's impatience and Wei Ying's reticence, and they have only suffered for their stubborn pride.
Now, with his husband loitering in his arms, and with Lan Wangji tasting the full cost of months-long parting that mere talk might have avoided — he wishes only sincerity between them. Will push it to the fore, no matter how strange and ill at ease he finds it still. )
Must treasure you all the better now that you are.
But it's also fair, when Wei Wuxian himself didn't realize until recently.]
Aiya, all right, all right. [He keeps patting Lan Zhan as if he can will this embarrassing conversation to end quickly by making his husband fall asleep. Like a parent with an overtired but stubborn child at naptime. Which he has been on the occasion that he had nothing to do and was saddled with Yuan during his grumpy days.] We'll make up for lost time.
But you know, you have done a lot of fussing over me since we arrived...
( He has, shamelessly, impossibly fond. Earned, in light of Wei Ying's overall frailty and recent revelations. He will only fret and fuss and orbit his husband the more, now that his need is known.
It starts like this: a gaze weighty and fond, Lan Wangji's hand trickling down the side of Wei Ying's cheek, chasing down his arm, gathering on his flank. Lan Wangji's mouth hungering over his forehead, his lids. )
Absolutely not, er-gege. [An instant response, punctuated by Wei Wuxian turning his cheek so he can mouth at Lan Zhan's cheek like he's contemplating biting it. Not as round or tender as Yuan's little peach cheeks, but he could get behind this.]
Be good. ( He murmurs, and yawns his jaws open with a telling crack to show off his own teeth and the possibility of a bite in kind, like a well aged lion.
Careful, pretty thing. One spell of bedding has yet to tame the illustrious Hanguang-Jun. To prove his point, he nudges Wei Ying with his nose, determined to prove himself. )
Were you... pleased? ( He suspects neither of them suits straightforwad questions over matters of bedplay. Still, Lan Wangji must make the attempt, however slim. If he has failed his lover, he must make ammends. There is no world, he suspects, in which either of them prefers to remain celibate. )
[Be good, he says, and perhaps he means that as admonishment or warning, but to Wei Wuxian, it's never been anything but a challenge. How far he can push that until he gets a more firm reprimand.
Now, he thinks, how he can push Lan Zhan more.]
Mm. [He raises both hands and presses them against Lan Zhan's chest, kneading like a cat. Pushing his fingertips against the thick meat. How is Lan Zhan so built? He's almost jealous. (He is most certainly jealous.)]
I enjoyed it. It was your first, wasn't it? Very, very good for a beginner, I'm almost tempted to grade it.
( He is being... appraised. Fondled. Found, he hopes and will only double his exercise regimen for it, not entirely wanting. There is a point past which physical prowess graduates from reassurance to deterrent; he does not wish to frighten or repulse.
As Wei Ying has his look-around across his skin, Lan Wangji's hands move up his head, scouting through his hair, gently scratching the sides. A scalp massage, as things go. Suitable. )
No grade until further instruction. ( He can only abide being a disappointment in so many ways. ) Must work hard.
[If he were a cat, he'd purr. Lan Zhan's fingers in his hair, against his scalp, feel divine. He unconsciously starts to mirror the motions with his own hands, stroking and massaging against Lan Zhan's skin.]
Mmh... [No wait, he's getting distracted--]
Don't know what else I can teach you... Did you know? I never tried anything but stroking, and that's just on my own body. Everything else comes from Nie-xiong's old books.
( There, just there. Fingers latching onto Wei Ying's hair, the entirety of their attention rapt with each other. Wholly and unapologetically gravitating toward Wei Ying.
He applies himself, handy and enthusiastic and learning, day by day, what it takes to be 'skilled.' Affection is a different beast than the cunning of intimacy, than passing his hand over Wei Ying's length and coaxing out moans.
He should do so again, perhaps within hours, certainly the day. Pauses do not serve when knowledge is so fresh. )
[Asking Wei Wuxian that is just asking for a stream of filth from his mouth. But if Lan Zhan wants it, he will oblige.]
Regular couples put a jade pillar in a yin dao, you know? That's how babies are made. But what happens if the couple only has jade pillars? [He pets Lan Zhan's chest. Trying to remember what the yellow books said about these things. But they're always so flowery, the stuff that Nie Huaisang likes. None of them were straight to the point.]
They can do what we just did... or they can find a substitute for a yin dao. The body has other holes after all.
( 'Regular' couples. As if they are somehow alien, out of place. He understands, in part, Wei Ying's meaning — and still smarts to think of him as untoward or perverse. Not his husband. Not him.
And then, the rest. Jade pillars, yin dao, substitutes. At the inevitable conclusion — the body has other holes — he is all flushed and seeking to stare at any other corner of the room, fervently wishing to make himself humble. Small.
This... goes far beyond his natural learning, and Cloud Recesses' finest efforts to educate its second son. He finally recovers the shamelessness to face Wei Ying again, then doubles it, hand suddenly wondering his lover's flank, his hip, the now known weight of his cock — and slipping below, to part his legs and gently, far too gently, brush against Wei Ying's 'hole.' )
This cannot fit. ( Like an engineer, finding the work wanting. ) Unsuitable for purpose.
[Wei Wuxian yelps-- no, squeals, when he feels Lan Zhan feeling about between his legs, because no one has ever touched him there! Maybe his parents to clean him up when he was an infant, but that's different! That's got nothing to do with this situation!]
Lan Zhan! A little warning! [Then he clears his throat, face burning in embarrassment.
And, more embarrassingly, his prick has begun to fill up again. His body actually likes it?! He's awed, horrified, and shocked.]
( A little warning, says his dearest one, who shies from Lan Wangji's touch like the maiden they both know him not to be. For once on this day, Lan Wangji lets his brows perk up, taking the measure of his husband incredulously. Really. )
I, Lan Wangji, hereby warn. ( ...of what, precisely, they never quite stipulated, and his touch stays simple, sweet, barely caressing Wei Ying's pretty treasure. His thumb lingers. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Then, carefully, biding his time, he reaches out to offer the captive pot of salve to Wei Ying, so that he might be shown the way of this obscure learning. And yet, on the way of things, murmured: )
How did you learn? ( He suspects, not from books. Frowns, because the possibility of Wei Ying picking up his instruction from more than gossip, of having partaken of such intimacy with another man — it fills him with a jealousy that burns brighter than his gaze should. That overwhelms him. )
Who taught you?
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Lan Zhan's first tone of jealousy?
So cute!]
Jealous, Lan Zhan? Are you getting jealous of my own hand, my own bed, my nightly emissions? [He reaches out and gives his husband a few taps on the nose.]
I told you, didn't I? I used to wake up hard, and of course I couldn't just wake outside and begin my day with something so unsightly. You should be pleased with me, I learned this by myself with only books to help, and now you get to reap rewards!
[And by "rewards" he means a hot touch to the length Wei Wuxian had been stroking earlier, his motions smoother now because of the salve all over his palm and fingers, and Lan Zhan's new, more accessible position.]
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He says nothing, for the longest time. Lives the moment, eyes slowly shutting, his own need visible in the incremental, slow push of his hips attuned to Wei Ying's ministrations. Then, finally, he catches his husband's wrist and removing his hand, gaze burning as he moves to return the favor, dipping his own fingertips in the salve.
Less masterfully, but eager, he catches Wei Ying's length in his hand, applying himself with the same biting cruelty of his lover, choking it in hand. )
Not unsightly. Never unsightly. ( A correction. ) You are beautiful.
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Ooh, Lan-er-gege, you romantic...
[Lan Zhan may have moved his hand off, but Wei Wuxian returns it as soon as it's freed. And then he presses himself against his husband, bodies connected, ankles intertwined, stroking each other to completion in this bed.]
We do this together, hm?
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He latches as he can, onto what is given to him, Wei Ying's neck, his shoulder, his upper arm, his cheek. Teeth grazing, before unforgivably, with a last, barely-there stroke of Wei Ying's own arousal, he surrenders to his pleasure, wetting Wei Ying's hand with his seed, as a low, heady moan spills from within him.
He sighs, forehead falling onto Wei Ying's shoulder, his eyes shutting. Breathes, barely remembering as his hips convulse, to chase his husband's own satisfaction with slowed, stronger strokes. )
To... together. Wei Ying. Wei Ying.
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And the way his name is being called? Too much, too much.
He finishes as well, much louder than Lan Zhan had, crying out his pleasure as his legs tighten around his husband's. A quick and sudden end that leaves him panting in Lan Zhan's arms and blinking up at him blearily.]
Lan Zhan... [A soft whine, followed by a turn of his head towards the man's mouth. He wants a kiss.]
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He feels at once consumed and reinvigorated, overwhelmed and wanting. For a moment, they were complete, one body, one heart, one beat, one pulse of need. He nudges Wei Ying with his nose, soft, until they converge again, their mouths meeting without deepening the kiss.
Too lethargic. Too readily consumed. )
Thank you.
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He wraps his arms and legs around Lan Zhan like he's unwilling to let him go, even as they part from the kiss to breathe.]
You want more? [Likely not. Lan Zhan sounds like a swimmer who pushed himself too hard. Wei Wuxian himself feels winded, and is surprised at that-- he used to get himself off before and yet has never felt this tired. Is it because he did it with Lan Zhan? Is it because Lan Zhan was the one touching him instead of him working on himself alone?]
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Have they... consummated? Will the elders recognize the deed of their marriage now done? He suspects there will always be accusations that Lan Wangji was lured into his wedding bed under false pretences. That Wei Ying made use of his numerous tricks to deceive and pervert him.
Foolish, in this. In more, but Lan Wangji's mouth will not speak that ugliness against them. Finally, he rolls them onto their sides, not quite easing Wei Ying's legs off him, but allowing them degrees of relaxation. )
We have time. Let me see you. ( Like this, flushed, attentive, keen. Young. One day, perhaps, in love. ) You are beautiful.
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Though with Lan Zhan's insistence on looking at him, he can't turn his head in order to cover up the flush that colors his grey, pale face.]
Not handsome? Aiya, my husband doesn't think I am handsome? [There's no real heat in his tone, simply complaining to complain. And because he's embarrassed that Lan Zhan can just see everything, Wei Wuxian having no place to hide.
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( He murmurs it and meets Wei Ying's wife, and he is a content beast, a tame thing, willing. He feels alive for Wei Ying's presence nearby, brought to his knees by the peaceful edge of his gaze, by their mutual satisfaction.
His hand goes over Wei Ying's where it can, draws it close. He wants everything his husband would give now and forever. Sleepiness envelops him. He breathes. )
You can be either. Both. Only, mine.
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He reaches out with his free hand, first patting their joined hands, then smoothing over Lan Zhan's side, as if patting him to sleep.]
Lan Zhan, you're cute. I was always yours. [And he wants to assume that Lan Zhan is completely his, in turn.]
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( And perhaps it's an unkindness to say so, speaking words they'd both wish left untouched, revisiting a past at times unkindly. They were not always blessed with understanding, between Lan Wangji's impatience and Wei Ying's reticence, and they have only suffered for their stubborn pride.
Now, with his husband loitering in his arms, and with Lan Wangji tasting the full cost of months-long parting that mere talk might have avoided — he wishes only sincerity between them. Will push it to the fore, no matter how strange and ill at ease he finds it still. )
Must treasure you all the better now that you are.
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But it's also fair, when Wei Wuxian himself didn't realize until recently.]
Aiya, all right, all right. [He keeps patting Lan Zhan as if he can will this embarrassing conversation to end quickly by making his husband fall asleep. Like a parent with an overtired but stubborn child at naptime. Which he has been on the occasion that he had nothing to do and was saddled with Yuan during his grumpy days.] We'll make up for lost time.
But you know, you have done a lot of fussing over me since we arrived...
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It starts like this: a gaze weighty and fond, Lan Wangji's hand trickling down the side of Wei Ying's cheek, chasing down his arm, gathering on his flank. Lan Wangji's mouth hungering over his forehead, his lids. )
Objections?
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In fact, I encourage you to do it more.
[It makes him feel safe, he won't say.]
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Careful, pretty thing. One spell of bedding has yet to tame the illustrious Hanguang-Jun. To prove his point, he nudges Wei Ying with his nose, determined to prove himself. )
Were you... pleased? ( He suspects neither of them suits straightforwad questions over matters of bedplay. Still, Lan Wangji must make the attempt, however slim. If he has failed his lover, he must make ammends. There is no world, he suspects, in which either of them prefers to remain celibate. )
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Now, he thinks, how he can push Lan Zhan more.]
Mm. [He raises both hands and presses them against Lan Zhan's chest, kneading like a cat. Pushing his fingertips against the thick meat. How is Lan Zhan so built? He's almost jealous. (He is most certainly jealous.)]
I enjoyed it. It was your first, wasn't it? Very, very good for a beginner, I'm almost tempted to grade it.
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As Wei Ying has his look-around across his skin, Lan Wangji's hands move up his head, scouting through his hair, gently scratching the sides. A scalp massage, as things go. Suitable. )
No grade until further instruction. ( He can only abide being a disappointment in so many ways. ) Must work hard.
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Mmh... [No wait, he's getting distracted--]
Don't know what else I can teach you... Did you know? I never tried anything but stroking, and that's just on my own body. Everything else comes from Nie-xiong's old books.
We have to work it out on our own.
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He applies himself, handy and enthusiastic and learning, day by day, what it takes to be 'skilled.' Affection is a different beast than the cunning of intimacy, than passing his hand over Wei Ying's length and coaxing out moans.
He should do so again, perhaps within hours, certainly the day. Pauses do not serve when knowledge is so fresh. )
What more?
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Regular couples put a jade pillar in a yin dao, you know? That's how babies are made. But what happens if the couple only has jade pillars? [He pets Lan Zhan's chest. Trying to remember what the yellow books said about these things. But they're always so flowery, the stuff that Nie Huaisang likes. None of them were straight to the point.]
They can do what we just did... or they can find a substitute for a yin dao. The body has other holes after all.
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And then, the rest. Jade pillars, yin dao, substitutes. At the inevitable conclusion — the body has other holes — he is all flushed and seeking to stare at any other corner of the room, fervently wishing to make himself humble. Small.
This... goes far beyond his natural learning, and Cloud Recesses' finest efforts to educate its second son. He finally recovers the shamelessness to face Wei Ying again, then doubles it, hand suddenly wondering his lover's flank, his hip, the now known weight of his cock — and slipping below, to part his legs and gently, far too gently, brush against Wei Ying's 'hole.' )
This cannot fit. ( Like an engineer, finding the work wanting. ) Unsuitable for purpose.
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Lan Zhan! A little warning! [Then he clears his throat, face burning in embarrassment.
And, more embarrassingly, his prick has begun to fill up again. His body actually likes it?! He's awed, horrified, and shocked.]
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I, Lan Wangji, hereby warn. ( ...of what, precisely, they never quite stipulated, and his touch stays simple, sweet, barely caressing Wei Ying's pretty treasure. His thumb lingers. )
It will not make this more accommodating.
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