Work Text:
Given Life
by misscam
II
Wei Wuxian is used to nightmares given how often he has them. After all, there are many memories that claim his dreams as nightmares when they become too haunting. Burial Mounds. The burning of Lotus Pier. Shijie. The massacre of the Wens. His death.
This is going to be in his nightmares, Wei Wuxian already knows. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, pale and barely breathing, Lan Zhan claimed by a curse, Lan Zhan dying. It is already a waking nightmare, and he balls his fists and feels his whole body tremble.
“How could you let this happen?” Wei Wuxian growls. The Lan disciples look down, eyes shamed and terrified, and only Lan SiZhui dares meet his gaze. “How.”
“Hanguang Jun was protecting us,” Lan Sizhui says quietly. His eyes are bright with tears. “Brother Wei, I…”
Wei Wuxian bites back bile. Of course Lan Zhan would protect the disciples at the risk of his own life. It is who he is. Wei Wuxian would do the same in a heartbeat – for Lan SiZhui alone, in fact. That doesn’t make seeing Lan Zhan like this any less painful.
Softly, he puts his hand on Lan Zhan’s, and for a moment, Lan Zhan’s eyelids flutter slightly. Does he feel Wei Wuxian here, Wei Wuxian wonders, and his heart hurts even more.
“We were night hunting,” Lan Sizhui goes on after a moment. “Many villagers have gone missing or found dead in the last few weeks. We found a tomb. Several resentful spirits attacked us, and we sent up a flare. Hanguang Jun must have seen our signal. He came. He calmed the spirits. We would have been fine, had not…”
“Had not the tomb been trapped with an ancient curse,” Wei Wuxian says. He bites his lip hard. He saw the flare too. If only he had been faster. If only Lan Zhan hadn’t seen it. If only…
Lan Zhan is meant to be doing very boring and safe Excellency tasks, Wei Wuxian thinks a touch bitterly. He is not meant to be risking his life to save others – but of course, his conscience would not allow it otherwise.
“Did you know of it?” one disciple asks, and Wei Wuxian shakes his head. At another time, he would have explained that the curse radiating its resentful energy is whispering to him, but this is not a time to teach.
“Hanguang Jun protected us from it,” Lan Sizhui says miserably. The disciples all look as miserable as he sounds, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t have the will or strength to comfort them now. He hurts too much.
Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.
“We have sent to Cloud Recesses,” Lan Jingyi says hopefully.
They won’t be in time, Wei Wuxian thinks, the thought strangely clear in the jumble that is his mind, followed by another clear thought. He can’t play Cleansing Music strong enough for this curse, for this much resentful energy. Maybe no one can.
There is only one thing left to do.
“Shall I play Cleansing Music?” Lan Sizhui asks. His lips tremble. “Hanguang Jun said I am making progress on it.”
“I will play it,” Wei Wuxian says absentmindedly. “Go outside. Do not disturb me.”
The disciples all give him bows, shuffling outside. Only Lan Sizhui pauses, looking at him. “Brother Wei?”
“A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian says distantly. His mind is elsewhere. “Don’t blame yourself for tonight.”
Lan SiZhui says nothing, merely leaves, leaving only Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan in the silent, silent tomb. Gently, Wei Wuxian eases Lan Zhan into his lap, cradling him as best he can, gazing down at him.
“You’re not going to die, Lan Zhan,” he whispers. The tears sting in his eyes, hot and insistent. “Lan Zhan. You can’t die. You’re too good, you’re light when everything else is dark, you’re…”
He breathes, trying to keep his voice from breaking.
“You’re Lan Zhan,” he finishes, pressing his forehead against Lan Zhan’s, feeling the Lan forehead ribbon against his skin as he does. He stays like that for a moment, just wanting to feel Lan Zhan close. “I won’t let you die.”
Slowly, he straightens and pulls out his flute as well as a few talismans. He feels no sorrow for what he is about to do. It is for Lan Zhan, after all, and he’s already had a life more than expected. Lan Zhan will have a given life too.
He sets to work.
II
Lan Wangji wakes slowly.
His head hurts. His body aches. His mouth tastes of metal. His breath keeps catching. Every heartbeat hurts.
“Hanguang Jun?” a voice calls. Lan Jingyi, he thinks distantly.
“Hn,” he says. His eyelids feel heavy, and he has to gather his strength to force them open. It even takes a moment before he’s able to focus his vision.
Ancient curse, he remembers. The disciples. They are here. They are standing around, looking at him with eyes wide in shock. Only Lan Sizhui is further away, cradling a shape, cradling…
Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji feels his heart contract painfully, as painfully as it only has twice before. Once for mother, once for Wei Ying before, and now again. He stumbles as he gets to his feet, hurrying over to Lan Sizhui and falling to his feet again there.
Wei Ying is pale, far, far too pale. Blood is running from his nose, and his chest is barely rising. His body is far too cold as Lan Wangji pulls him gently from Lan SiZhui’s arms to his own.
Why is Wei Ying even here? Wei Ying is meant to be travelling wherever he wants without a care in the world. That is what Lan Wangji parted ways with him to allow; he did not wish for Wei Ying to feel obligated to stay while Lan Wangji served as His Excellency. Wei Ying was meant to be happy and free.
Wei Ying is not meant to be risking his life to save others anymore – but of course, his conscience would not allow it otherwise, Lan Wangji thinks and hurts with it.
“He transferred the curse to himself,” Lan Sizhui whispers.
“How,” Lan Wangji says, and he has to pause to breathe, just breathe, anger and fear and pain making it hard to. “How could you let Wei Ying do this.”
“Hanguang Jun…”
“How.”
“We did not know he was going to,” Lan Jingyi says. He sounds choked up.
“Don’t yell at them,” Wei Ying murmurs faintly, and Lan Wangji looks down at him. His voice is sharp with pain, but even so, he gives the faintest of smiles. How Wei Ying, smiling through pain, Lan Wangji thinks, and that hurts too.
“I will not let you do this,” he tells Wei Ying, and Wei Ying opens his eyes to blink up at him, eyes pained. “Wei Ying sacrifices himself too much. Golden core for his brother. His reputation for the Wens.”
“My choice,” Wei Ying manages to say. “This too, my choice.”
Lan Wangji nods. His heart hurts at the thought of all Wei Ying has given freely for no reward at all, but he does understand. It is who Wei Ying is, after all.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. His eyes slide shut again. “My choice. You, Lan Zhan. My choice.”
Lan Wangji remembers a time where he would have wanted nothing more than to hear words such as these from Wei Ying, but now he feels only anger and grief and despair. No. No.
He puts his hand on Wei Ying’s forehead. “This – my choice. Wei Ying will live,” he says gently.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispers desperately, eyes opening in panic as he catches on to what Lan Wangji has decided to do. “Don’t…”
Lan Wangji sets to work; Wei Ying fights him.
II
Lan Wangji tries to transfer the curse onto him; Wei Wuxian tries to transfer it right back. It is a strange sort of battle, Lan Sizhui thinks, a battle to the death, but each trying to die for the other.
Wei Wuxian wants Hanguang Jun to live and will give his life for it. Hanguang Jun wants to Wei Wuxian to live and will give his life for it.
How true to them both.
“What should we do?” Lan Jingyi asks, eyes wide. “We have to…”
“Do not interrupt,” Hanguang Jun says, voice strained. He has his hand on Wei Wuxian’s forehead, while Wei Wuxian holds his wrist in return. Resentful energy flicks back and forth between them, hissing and growling. If they are interrupted, it may kill them both, kill them all, Lan Sizhui knows, but even so, just watching is…
They have both been like fathers to him, he thinks painfully. To wish either to live is to wish the other to die, and he can’t, can’t…
He breathes, and breathes, trying to still himself. He is not the only one struggling to keep composure, he notices. Hanguang Jun and Master Wei both look increasingly drained, and he suspects they both may collapse at any moment.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian pleads, voice broken. “Please.”
“Wei Ying,” Hanguang Jun replies, voice trembling. “No.”
“Stubborn,” Wei Wuxian says, and it manages to sound both angry and fond.
“Hn,” Hanguang Jun says, gritting his teeth. A faint line of blood runs from his nose. Gently, very gently, Wei Wuxian lifts a hand to cup his cheek and to wipe it away, and Hanguang Jun leans into the touch.
Lan Sizhui feels his cheeks flush. There is something strangely intimate in the gesture, tender and loving even as they are battling each other to save each other. They are both trembling now, the resentful energy slowing, slowing… Stilling.
“Wei Ying,” Hanguang Jun whispers, eyes sliding shut.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, voice drifting off.
They both collapse, and Lan Sizhui closes his eyes, not wanting, not daring to know who won.
II
There is light behind his eyelids, Wei Wuxian slowly becomes aware of. Bright, bright sunlight. He feels warm, and soft, but also terribly, terribly tired. His body seems to hum with a sort of dull pain that comes from true exhaustion, and his mind feels slow, as if every thought is trapped in a quagmire and must be fought free.
Lan Zhan, he thinks, and swallows. Lan Zhan. If he is alive, then… Lan Zhan.
Even with his eyes closed, he can feel the tears escape, hot and heavy as they streak his cheeks.
“Young Master Wei,” a voice says, a voice he recognizes all too well. Lan Xichen. How can he ever face Lan Xichen again after… after failing to… “Young Master Wei, everything is fine.”
Fine, he thinks. Fine?
“Wangji is here too,” Lan Xichen continues.
Wei Wuxian opens his eyes in shock. He is in a bed at Cloud Recesses, the morning sun spilling across the room, and at the other end of the room, there is another bed. There is another person.
Lan Zhan. He stares, stares as Lan Zhan sits up in his bed, and everything seems to slow down, including his heart. Lan Zhan, he thinks, the relief, the joy downright painful. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is pale, eyes slightly bloodshot, and with lines of fatigue on his face, but he is alive. Alive.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispers helplessly.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, that way he does, and Wei Wuxian scrambles off the bed, and barrels right at Lan Zhan, hugging him fiercely, desperately. Lan Zhan goes very, very still at first. His arms hang awkwardly at his sides, and his breath catches. Then he gently moves one hand to Wei Wuxian’s back, the other to his hair.
Wei Wuxian exhales and presses his face against Lan Zhan’s chest, feeling his heartbeat, strong and sure, if a little fast. Lan Zhan’s heart, he thinks, and his own heart seems to quicken too.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispers against his chest.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. His fingers gently tuck away errant strands of hair, brushing Wei Wuxian’s ear every time he does.
“How?” Wei Wuxian asks. He is almost afraid to know, afraid to find it a dream, and to wake to another nightmare. How can they both be here?
“You ended up sharing the resentful energy of the curse between you,” Lan Xichen says behind them, walking up to sit down at the edge of the bed. He looks at Wei Wuxian with gentle eyes. “It allowed you both, with the help of the disciples, to survive long enough for us to find you and bring you here. It took us several days to dissipate it, but you will both recover in time.”
Wei Wuxian swallows. “We saved each other?”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan says very softly.
Wei Wuxian would laugh at that, if he had the energy. A draw. A draw, and somehow, they both win.
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says gently. “Young Master Wei. You both need rest.”
The thought of letting Lan Zhan go for even a moment makes Wei Wuxian’s heart ache. His arms seem to tighten around Lan Zhan of their own will, a touch desperately. Lan Zhan moves his hand slowly up and down his back in response, a calming, comforting gesture.
“Here,” Wei Wuxian whispers, not caring how shameless it sounds.
“Wei Ying may rest here,” Lan Zhan says after a moment.
Lan Xichen makes a curious noise, but his voice remains gentle and pleasant. “As you wish.”
He helps Lan Zhan lie back down, Wei Wuxian clinging on all the while, and tucks them both in gently and carefully, then Wei Wuxian can hear him move away, and after a few moments, hears a flute being played.
Lan Xichen is going to watch over them, and that feels comforting too, though not as comforting as Lan Zhan’s presence. Nothing is as comforting as Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure – at least to him.
“Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. Lan Zhan’s chest rises and falls under his head, and he feels Lan Zhan’s breath tickle his scalp. “Sing to me, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Zhan does; the familiar tune lulls Wei Wuxian into sleep, no nightmares to haunt him.
II
Lan Wangji cannot remember the last time he felt this drained, and yet this at peace.
He didn’t lose Wei Ying. Wei Ying is right here with him, and to Lan Wangji, it feels like he’s done more than escape death. He’s been given life again. He’s missed Wei Ying, and just how much he only acknowledges to himself now.
They spend several days mostly sleeping, and always in the same bed. Lan Wangji doesn’t ask Wei Wuxian to leave his bed, and Wei Wuxian expresses no desire to sleep anywhere else, and thus it simply becomes so. Lan Wangji is not used to sharing his bed, but Wei Ying doesn’t feel like an intrusion. Even when he is sometimes restless in his sleep, he always quiets and nestles closer whenever Lan Wangji draws his hand down his back.
He is not used to touching Wei Ying this much, or Wei Ying touching him this much either. Touching, yes. A steadying arm, a comforting hand, small reassuring touches, yes. Now, they never seem to stop touching. Even when they get up briefly, taking short walks or sitting down to eat together (which is all Lan Xichen allows for now), they seem to be leaning into each other, seeking contact. Every day, their touching seem to become a little more habitual and a little more intimate, inching forwards towards… Towards what?
Lan Wangji doesn’t quite dare think what yet, but it feels like his heart has made a choice his mind is still trying to phrase.
His brother looks after them with infinite patience, bringing them food and even managing to get some spice into Wei Wuxian’s food, playing his flute to help the healing, occasionally reading to them when they don’t fall instantly asleep again.
He’s broken seclusion to look after them, Lan Wangji knows, and what’s more, he is looking after Wei Ying as tenderly as he is Lan Wangji. That means more than he can say, but his brother looks at him knowingly, understanding what Lan Wangji can’t find the words for.
The disciples all stop by, all apologies and awe, Lan Sizhui the only one who dares to hug them both, crying softly until Wei Ying makes enough silly jokes to have him laugh instead. Uncle comes by too, and looks like he immediately regrets it when noticing their sleeping arrangement.
Lan Wangji just rises his chin at that, an unspoken challenge, and his uncle says nothing.
When he’s awake, Wei Ying talks almost as much as he always does. About his journeys, about memories that come to mind, about suggestions for new sect rules. Only sometimes does he fall strangely silent, looking thoughtful and distant and rubbing his nose. When asked if something is wrong, he jokes it off or talks about minor things, like his hand hurting or not being allowed liquor yet.
Lan Wangji knows there is something else. There is something else for him too.
They don’t talk about what happened. Whenever Lan Wangji thinks about it, his chest hurts. Wei Ying nearly died. Wei Ying nearly died for him. Wei Ying was determined to die for him.
How tell Wei Ying how angry that made him? How to tell Wei Ying how much it meant to him also? How to…
How to.
One early, early morning, he wakes to Wei Ying’s fingers in his hair, softly pulling at strands, and Wei Ying immediately looks embarrassed and sheepish at being caught.
“Sorry, Lan Zhan,” he says.
“It is fine.”
Wei Ying’s smile is one of relief. “Your ribbon has come loose. I was trying to fix it without touching it. I know how much you hate it when I do.”
He has a choice, Lan Wangji thinks, and knows his heart has already made it.
“You may touch it,” Lan Wangji tells him solemnly. Wei Ying immediately perks up. “My choice.”
“I have permission, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn.”
Softly, very softly, Wei Ying brushes his thumb across the ribbon, lifting it lightly, adjusting it, tightening it. It feels like a caress, and Lan Wangji closes his eyes, thinking about mornings like this, many more mornings like this.
This, then, is his choice, and he feels no regret for it, only joy.
Lan Xichen allows them a longer walk when he comes to check up on them later, and Lan Wangji takes Wei Ying to see the rabbits, as he’s been thinking about for a while. Wei Ying is immediately delighted, as Lan Wangji knew he would be, but when he pouts that they all run away from him, Lan Wangji picks one up, places it in Wei Ying’s lap, and pets the rabbit gently until it settles down quite happily.
Wei Ying’s smile at that is bright and warms more than the sun.
“Maybe your bunnies love you enough to love me too,” Wei Ying jokes and laughs, but Lan Wangji only nods solemnly.
“If Wei Ying stays, they will.”
Wei Wuxian’s smile dies. “If?”
“If,” Lan Wangji repeats. It is Wei Ying’s choice, after all, if they stay here or go somewhere else. “This – your choice.”
Wei Ying looks down at the rabbit. Lan Wangji gets the feeling he’s done something terribly wrong, and he isn’t sure exactly what. “Wei Ying?”
Wei Ying smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and it hurts, hurts enough to make Lan Wangji’s breath catch. “It’s fine, Lan Zhan.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, his heart racing, and Wei Ying sighs, then leans his head against Lan Wangji’s chest and closes his eyes. He looks tried, as if the strength has left him, and neither of them are fully healed, Lan Wangji reminds himself. Wei Ying still needs time to recover, especially with no golden core.
Slowly, Lan Wangji lowers his hand to Wei Ying’s neck, running his fingers in slow, steady circles. Wei Ying hums at that, his breathing steadying and soon, he falls asleep like that, pressed against Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji never lets go.
II
Wei Wuxian alternates between feeling utterly, utterly content, and utterly, utterly miserable. Content because he is with Lan Zhan, every day daring to touch Lan Zhan a little more intimately, and Lan Zhan not only allowing it, but seeming to welcome it. He is even beginning to think seriously about kissing Lan Zhan, seriously, seriously, not with the hopeless sort of yearning he once did.
Miserable because Lan Zhan has still not asked him to stay. He knows he’s not unwelcome to, he does, but he… He wants to know he is wanted to.
He hides his misery as best he can, but Lan Zhan seems to pick up on it nevertheless, clearly bothered and slightly frustrated without ever saying so. Even so, he still touches Wei Wuxian as softly as ever, still welcomes the intimacy, even letting Wei Wuxian rest in his lap whenever Lan Xichen comes by to play his flute. Every morning, he sits and waits for Wei Wuxian to arrange his forehead ribbon, and Wei Wuxian realizes that permission to touch it apparently meant indefinitely.
Lan Xichen walks in on them like that one morning, his expression one Wei Wuxian can’t even begin to categorize, so many emotions all at once.
“Brother,” Lan Zhan says.
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says. He looks at them for a moment longer, then smiles pleasantly. “Wangji, may I have a word with Young Master Wei?”
Lan Zhan looks reluctant and slightly hesitant, but Wei Wuxian gives him an encouraging nod.
“I will see the disciples,” Lan Wangji says. He gives Wei Wuxian one last look before leaving, and Wei Wuxian immediately feels colder without Lan Zhan’s warming presence.
“Young master Wei, I wish to thank you,” Lan Xichen says, and Wei Wuxian tries not to fidget in discomfort. He may feel awkward about getting thanks, especially as formally as Lan Xichen does it, but it is meant well, he knows. “You have given Wangji life, and for that, I cannot offer enough thanks. You have my eternal gratitude, and that of Gusu Lan as well.”
Wei Wuxian makes a face. “He didn’t want to let me save him.”
Lan Xichen sighs. “Wangji is stubborn since birth. Fortunately, you are equally stubborn, Young Master Wei.”
Wei Wuxian swallows. Fortunately. That does seem to be the story of him and Lan Zhan, doesn’t it?
“Zewu Jun. Thank you too,” Wei Wuxian says after a moment. Lan Xichen gives him a curious look. “For looking after me as well.”
“It is the least I could do,” Lan Xichen says. “Wangji would not be here if…”
He trails off, closing his eyes. Wei Wuxian can see the pain on his face before Lan Xichen manages to compose himself again and smile pleasantly.
“I never thought he wouldn’t be safe,” Wei Wuxian mutters, and it sounds stupid even to himself. “He’s spent so long protecting me I didn’t… I thought he’d be safe. I need him to be safe.”
Lan Xichen exhales. “I know how you feel.”
“How can you?” Wei Wuxian mutters miserably without really thinking.
“Young Master Wei,” Lan Xichen says, and Wei Wuxian can hear something sharp in his voice, almost buried by pleasantness. “Of course I know how you feel. You’re not the only one who loves Wangji.”
Wei Wuxian feels a sharp jolt to his heart, painful and sharp. “I don’t…”
He trails off. The rest of the sentence simply refuses to be said. His mind screams at him, and his voice dies. He can’t say it. Can’t say he doesn’t love Lan Zhan. He…
He does loves Lan Zhan, he thinks, and the thought feels less like a realization and more like a confirmation. He has known that in his heart for a long time, really. He just hasn’t dared truly think it.
He loves Lan Zhan.
Lan Xichen’s face soften as he looks at him, taking in his reaction.
“I know I’m not,” Wei Wuxian manages to say, his voice small. Lan Xichen exhales softly at the implied admission, he notices. “I… Hanguang Jun is loved by many.”
“Admired by many,” Lan Xichen says. “Very few are close enough to Wangji to truly love him. It makes those who do important to me as well.”
Oh, Wei Wuxian thinks, and his heart aches again.
“It is good to see you two together again,” Lan Xichen goes on, and Wei Wuxian pauses, swallowing. He can feel Lan Xichen watch him intently. “You are welcome to stay as at Cloud Recesses for long as you like, Young Master Wei.”
“Lan Zhan hasn’t asked me to stay,” Wei Wuxian says quietly.
Lan Xichen exhales. “Is that what is bothering you, Young Master Wei? He may never ask that. Do you remember the story I told you once? Of our mother, forced to stay in Cloud Recesses due to the love of our father? Wangji is determined not to be our father. Wangji doesn’t wish to trap those he loves. It is your choice if you wish to stay here, Wei Ying. My brother has already informed me he will leave if you wish to go elsewhere together.”
Oh, Wei Wuxian thinks. Oh. It feels as if everything has suddenly come into focus, becoming clear and sharp. Lan Zhan wasn’t asking if he wanted to stay with him. Lan Zhan was asking if Cloud Recesses was a place Wei Ying might like to stay. Lan Zhan doesn’t wish to trap those he loves. Lan Zhan doesn’t wish to trap him.
Lan Zhan loves him.
“I have to find him,” he says abruptly. He doesn’t even wait to hear Lan Xichen’s response before turning around, but Lan Xichen will forgive him, he’s sure.
Lan Zhan loves him.
He breaks into a run.
II
The disciples all still feel guilty about what happened, Lan Wangji knows, and he makes certain to speak to them without resentment, and to look at them all without avoiding their eyes.
It will take time for them to feel better, Lan Wangji knows, but his visit seems to at least lift their spirits a little. Lan Sizhui even manages a slight smile.
Lan Wangji is just about to leave when the door slams open, and all the disciples startle, then stare. Slowly, he turns around to see Wei Ying standing in the door, breathing hard. For a moment, he wonders if something is wrong, but Wei Ying’s face is bright, not alarmed.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, stepping into the room with a strange sort of nervous determination. “Lan Zhan, I wish to be with you!”
Lan Wangji blinks, opens his mouth, and closes it again. Wei Ying wants to be with him? Does he mean… Be with him?
“It doesn’t matter where! I want to be with you forever,” Wei Ying goes on, voice loud as he walks towards Lan Wangji. “I want to keep you safe forever, and you’re too stubborn not to try to keep me safe forever, so I want that too. I want everything you want because you want it. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I love you more than life, more than anything. I love you.”
“…” Lan Wangji breathes. He can only stare at Wei Ying, seeing the absolute sincerity on his face, trying to take in the overwhelming realization that Wei Ying is saying this, means this, feels like this. “You want…”
“I want,” Wei Ying confirms softly. “I want you, Lan Zhan. I want to arrange your forehead ribbon properly every morning. I want to have dinner with you every day even if you tell me not to talk while eating. I want to share a bed with you every night.”
The disciples make a wide variety of embarrassed noises. Lan Wangji feels heat rise to his ears. His heart seems to be thundering in his chest, every word from Wei Ying making his heart beat louder and faster.
“You didn’t hear that!” Wei Wuxian immediately tells the disciples, an order. “You’re not going to hear this either! Look away! Don’t listen! Lan Zhan! I want to sleep with you every night. I want to…”
Lan Wangji doesn’t wait for the end of the sentence. Wei Ying is close enough now, and he takes one step forward and kisses Wei Ying, kisses Wei Ying just as he’s wanted to for longer than he dares to acknowledge, kisses Wei Ying without reservation or restraint, kisses Wei Ying hotly, thoroughly and assuredly.
Wei Ying leans into it, breathes into it, moans into it, embraces Lan Wangji to both steady himself and to press him closer, kissing Lan Wangji back with equal enthusiasm.
They are both breathless when they pull slightly apart. Wei Ying’s lips are flushed as he smiles radiantly, and Lan Wangji thinks that like this, Wei Ying is more beautiful than anything else he can think of.
“… to kiss you every day…” Wei Ying continues breathlessly. “No, at least every day. At least several times a day. No, at least several times every hour.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji says. He glances around to see that the disciples dutifully keeping their eyes on the floor, and a few have even covered their ears. Even so, they are all blushing furiously, clearly embarrassed. Gently, he takes Wei Ying’s hand in his. “Let us go elsewhere, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying laughs as he follows Lan Wangji towards the door, a delighted laugh that makes Lan Wangji’s skin tickle. “Ah, I have embarrassed your disciples. Apologies, disciples! Bet you’ll never look at Hanguang Jun the same way again, huh?”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, exasperated, but Wei Ying only smiles teasingly at him, and it is hard to stay exasperated in the face of that.
“Goodbye disciples!” he calls merrily, giving a small wave through the door before they exit. “Hanguang Jun is taking me away to ravish… Hmpf!”
Even outside, Lan Wangji can hear the disciples’ voices through the still open door.
“Silencing charm?” Lan Jingyi asks.
“No, Lan Sizhui answers truthfully, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I think Hanguang Jun found another way to silence him.”
He has, Lan Wangji thinks, and kisses Wei Ying completely, utterly silent.
II
Wei Wuxian still has nightmares sometimes.
They are confused swirling mess of dark images, of death and destruction, of his own death, of shijie dying, of the light in Lan Zhan’s eyes dying as it did shijie’s…
Every time, he wakes with his heart pounding to feel Lan Zhan’s arms around him, hear Lan Zhan’s steady breathing, feel Lan Zhan’s warmth around him, smell Lan Zhan’s clear scent of sandalwood, and the nightmare loses its grip.
Sometimes, Lan Zhan is awake already, and kisses him lovingly until everything feels like a dream instead. Sometimes, Lan Zhan wakes up with him, embracing him even more tightly, his hands chasing away the cold and the dark.
Wei Wuxian still has nightmares sometimes, but only sometimes. Often, they don’t come at all. Perhaps it is because Lan Zhan ravishes him so thoroughly (or encourages Wei Wuxian to ravish him!) before bed every night that Wei Wuxian sleeps is too exhausted to do anything to sleep soundly through the night. Perhaps it is because with Lan Zhan near, Wei Wuxian finds it hard to linger on the past and instead thinks mostly of the future and present, of days and days (and nights and nights) with Lan Zhan. Perhaps it is because Wei Wuxian finds himself ridiculously, overwhelmingly, enduringly happy, and even more happy to see Lan Zhan just as ridiculously, overwhelmingly, enduringly happy, just in a Lan Zhan way.
Perhaps it’s because they’ve been both given life again, a life together.
What nightmare has any lasting power against that?
FIN