Archive of Our Own

Lan Xichen is floating. Floating on a cloud of soft cotton, surrounded in that perfect warmth the universe sometimes decides to grace you with upon waking — not too hot, not too cold, an exact balance of thermodynamics miraculously achieved between one’s own body heat and one’s sheets, when every brush feels like a caress and it would be sacrilege to even contemplate leaving the downy softness for such trivial matters as getting breakfast or going to work. Lan Xichen revels in it. A small smile tugs at his lips, and he lets out a faint, almost inaudible moan. It’s only right, he feels, to express your gratitude to the universe in tangible ways when it condescends to grant you these little blessings.

… All right, Lan Xichen might be thinking a little nonsensically right now, but he’s really very comfortable; it’s not his fault.

There’s a ray of sun just starting to peek through the blinds; Lan Xichen can feel the soft heat of it on the skin of his exposed calf. Delicious. He purrs, rubbing his face against the pillow and burying his smile in its fluffy depths. He feels giggly and ridiculous — waxing poetic about his bedding , really, what is the world coming to — but he’s currently too blissed out to care.

He lets out a long, contented exhale, and lets himself drift again, the smile never leaving his lips. Ah, what a joy to be alive. Time loses all meaning as he floats along the imaginary air currents guiding his warm, fanciful cloud. He doesn’t know how long he drowses before —

A sudden weight tilting the mattress down behind his back is the only warning he gets before a shout jolts him awake.

“AAAAAHHH!” The thump of some kind of (probably) human appendage hitting the wooden headboard. “Ow! Mother fucker , what the fuck? ” The rustling of sheets.

Lan Xichen smiles. He would be worried, but if there is swearing, then everything is probably fine. It’s when it stops that you need to look out, he’s learned. He’s become a bit of an expert at this, in fact — gauging his bedmate’s moods by the use of what he likes to call “the Rage Scale”. This is pretty much baseline, so, no need for concern yet. He keeps his eyes shut, savoring what he suspects will be his last few minutes lying down for the day. Behind him, the mattress bounces again, accompanied by enthusiastic panting.

“Nooooooo…”

This pathetic whine is shortly followed by more rustling and squirming, after which the voice comes out muffled from beneath a pile of blankets. “It’s too early for this shit… No, no, get off me, go away! I’ll feed you later… Come on, ten more minutes…”

For almost a whole second, it seems like this plea might be answered, but then, reality reasserts itself in the form of the most ominous sound one might imagine in this scenario: the distant sound, though rapidly getting closer, of nails skittering over hardwood floors at an unmistakable run. Lan Xichen braces himself; beside him, he can feel his neighbor doing the same with a plaintive whimper. A fraction of a second later, one, then two more weights jump onto the bed with the force of cannonballs to join the first one and barrel all over the mattress, half-tripping over their sprawled limbs.

“No, no, no, n— Ack!! Get off me, you nosy mutt!”

Given the flailing that’s clearly happening behind Lan Xichen’s back, one of the said mutts must have found a way under the blanket dome covering its owner. He sighs inaudibly. Well, this is getting a little crowded now. There’s a tail thumping eagerly against his back, a warm lump just settling over his ankle, and he’s pretty sure he can hear some licking action happening somewhere.

“Oh my God , are you — no , not the face! Bad! Bad dog!” Man and dog both emerge from the blanket mountain, the former gasping, the latter whuffing happily. “Down! Down, I said!” The whuffing and tail-thumping intensify. “Oh, really? That’s how it’s gonna be? Gonna behave like I didn’t even teach you any manners? Bunch of goddamn nuisances… I can’t believe this…”

The sheet stretches taut as the other man turns around and… paws at the carpet…?... before he seems to throw something down into the corridor, and immediately, the three wriggling masses of fur and slobber leap off the mattress and take off like shots down the hall. A scuffle ensues, paws squeaking over the floor and various bits of dog bumping against the walls in what Lan Xichen now gathers must be a fight to the death for their very favorite rope toy. Ah, clever. Nothing less would have sufficed in order to distract them from their furious quest for breakfast, no doubt.

Speaking of distractions, he is brought out of his reverie by a groan, as he feels his companion flop heavily back onto the mattress. The man in question lets out another heavy sigh, before turning his head and suddenly seeming to remember his presence. There’s some shuffling, closer and closer, and then Lan Xichen can feel a delicious expanse of warm skin as he plasters himself against his back and throws an arm around his waist. The shock of it is enough to surprise a delighted rumble out of him, as the smile finds its way back onto his lips. Hot puffs of air tease the back of his neck, before a face buries itself into his hair and nuzzles at his nape.

“Mmmrrrrrrrrhhh…”

The arm squeezes tighter. The body presses closer. Lan Xichen hums sleepily in response. Absently, he picks up the hand attached to that arm, tangling their fingers together, and brings it up to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the knuckles before resting their joined hands back down, eliciting a pleased sigh from his lover. He waits, enjoying the borrowed minutes of quiet. He knows his audience; it won’t be long until —

Another sigh, less pleased this time and more resigned. “Why… Why can’t they, just this once…”

“I don’t think they understand the concept of Sundays, my love,” he murmurs, smiling.

“That’s for damn sure,” Jiang Cheng grouses. “I just…” a whining exhale, “really don’t wanna…”

Ah. So that’s where this is going. Keeping his eyes closed, Lan Xichen feels the beginnings of a grin tug his lips wider. “Hmm, really,” he prompts. “You don’t say.”

Impossibly, Jiang Cheng presses himself closer still, crowding him against the mattress and practically lying on top of him. “Yes! Really,” he insists. Soft, fluttering kisses land on his shoulder, on his neck. “You know what? I’ve got an idea.”

Lan Xichen chuckles into his pillow. Bribery will get you everywhere. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Hmmm. How about…” another kiss to his nape, “... you go feed your asshole dogs…” a soft nuzzle to his ear, “...and I’ll wait here to welcome you back to bed.”

“ My asshole dogs?” he huffs. “I’m sorry, I must have been confused all this time. I was under the impression that they were your asshole dogs.”

That face buries itself in his neck and rumbles a deep hum. “Hmmm, no fair, you know what it does to me when you get vulgar.” Lan Xichen hides a smirk into his pillow. He will neither confirm nor deny knowledge of any such thing.

A brief bite below his ear. “And it’s too late, anyway, they’ve adopted you. No turning back now. They love you more than me at this point.”

“Really? Because that little love-fest right now begged to differ,” he laughs. He has no illusions as to how this little game of theirs will end, but he’s not above milking the situation for all it’s worth. Jiang Cheng does love a challenge, after all, and if this one comes with free affection being showered onto Lan Xichen… well, who in their right mind would object?

“That’s just because my side of the bed is closest to the door,” Jiang Cheng reasons, undeterred. One of his hands finds Lan Xichen’s own, next to his pillow, and laces their fingers together briefly, then slips away to trace feather-light patterns over his wrist, on his forearm, up to his biceps. Lan Xichen represses a shiver. “So, what do you say?” Jiang Cheng mumbles from where he’s nuzzling the side of his neck, his lips dragging against the sensitive skin distractingly. On purpose. Because he knows Lan Xichen’s weaknesses so well he could probably draw a map to them blindfolded and with one arm tied behind his back, the cheater. “Deal?”

Lan Xichen has to take a minute to gather his wits from where they’re currently being scattered by the warm puffs of air caressing his neck before he can respond, eyes half-closed in bliss. “Hmmm… you make a compelling argument.”

He can feel Jiang Cheng’s smile curve against his skin. This man will be the death of him. “Glad you think so,” he murmurs.

Lan Xichen heaves a sigh, then pulls himself up. This has the unfortunate side effect of dislodging the warm, wonderful pile of boyfriend from his back, though said boyfriend doesn’t even have the decency to look sorry, simply letting himself flop back onto his side of the bed with badly-concealed smugness on his face. Lan Xichen is hopelessly endeared.

He can’t help himself. He bends down to steal a kiss from that triumphant smirk, to its victim’s unresisting relish. “Only for you,” he concedes.

As he heaves himself upright, he already regrets leaving the haven of peace and softness, but alas; such are the trials and tribulations of being utterly helpless in the face of his one true love’s desires. Nevertheless, it is a price he pays gladly for the privilege of being allowed to share his life with this ridiculous man.

Just as he thinks this, a hand grasps the hem of his boxers and reels him in. “Don’t be too long,” Jiang Cheng murmurs, a lazy smile playing over his lips. His hand trails down Lan Xichen’s thigh before retreating, and he turns around under the covers before starfishing on his stomach with a shameless sigh of contentment.

What a tease. Lan Xichen loves him so much; he thinks his heart might burst with it. He can’t even bring himself to be mad, and he can’t help the dopey grin that stays on his face all through his search for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Good thing there’s no one here to see him and judge him for being so sappy.

Clothes in hand, he casts one last, fond glance at the bed before heading to the bathroom.

The dogs are patiently waiting for him on the other side of the door when he exits, all lolling tongues and hopeful eyes. As soon as he steps out, their tails start wagging madly, and he casts a considering look at the nearest window. It must be around nine already.

… Oh, all right. He’s up already; might as well give them a quick walk and hope it buys him a few more hours of lazing around. Jiang Cheng did say to come back soon, but he thinks he’ll probably be forgiven in this instance.

When he comes back home ten minutes later, he makes a beeline for the kitchen cupboards, all three of his charges panting happily at his heels. He makes quick work of pouring breakfast into their designated bowls while they wait, sitting back respectfully behind him. He turns around, bowls in hand, and eyes them for a second. Gods, but he’s never met such well-behaved dogs. Jiang Cheng is some sort of training genius, he swears.

He deposits the bowls on the floor and leaves them to their breakfast, tiptoeing back to the bedroom to check on his boyfriend.

Jiang Cheng is dead to the world, sprawled unselfconsciously in the exact same position he was in when Lan Xichen left.

Lan Xichen can’t wait to join him.

He sheds his shirt and pants, folds them carefully over a chair, and pads over to the bed on silent feet. He’s careful not to touch his boyfriend when he slips under the covers — a task rendered particularly difficult by the fact that said boyfriend has laid claim to ninety percent of the surface of the mattress in his absence — but his efforts are all rendered fruitless when Jiang Cheng, sensing his return, immediately scoots closer and latches onto him like a clingy octopus.

“A-Cheng! Careful, I just came in from the cold,” he warns, belatedly. Well, he tried.

“Mmmmm, don’t care,” is the slightly muffled reply, Jiang Cheng being busy nosing into his shoulder and wrapping his limbs tighter around him. “Did you feed the kids?”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen smiles. “They were very good, like always, waited properly to start eating until I said they could.”

Jiang Cheng grins sleepily at that, his eyes still closed. “Good girls,” he murmurs fondly.

Lan Xichen just about melts. There are few things in this world more adorable than witnessing his boyfriend fuss over his canine “children” like a proud parent. Just one more item on the very long list of reasons why he is head over heels for this man in his arms, and does not foresee any change in this state of affairs for as long as he gets to have this.

Forever, hopefully, he thinks as he lets himself be drawn closer and manhandled into an optimal body-pillow configuration. He wraps an arm around Jiang Cheng’s waist, savoring the feel of his sleep-soft skin and the warmth of his breath where it’s brushing his collarbone.

Forever sounds really excellent, yes. For now, though, he’ll take just one more hour of this blissful morning and already know himself blessed.