Archive of Our Own ^beta

For as long as Wei Wuxian had known him, Lan Zhan had always had scars.

When the two of them were young and still disciples in the Cloud Recesses he didn’t have very many. He simply lacked the experiences necessary to garner them, and even then, he was a renowned cultivator at a very young age. He didn’t let very many things get close enough to scar him.

Now, nearly two decades later, the number of scars across the man’s body had seemingly tripled. Pale skin marred by paler scars, numerous slashes lining long limbs. There were none on his face, which Wei Wuxian almost found amusing given how many his husband had everywhere else, but he was more so glad that the man didn’t have any more than he did. He’s dealt with enough as-is.

Which is why tonight, Wei Wuxian wanted to take the time to learn and relearn Lan Wangji’s scars. The new and the old. The small clean cuts that went just a little too deep to fade away so easily, and the thick, knotted ones that would be there until the day Lan Wangji’s quiet, calm breath would eventually go silent, and still.

In the Cloud Recesses, spring had finally begun to tip into summer - the breeze through the jingshi was losing its chill, the cicadas and crickets were becoming more active in the woods outside their home (it was still so strange to call the Jingshi his home, but he wasn’t opposed to it, not anymore), and the moon overhead was bright and full in her place in the sky. She provided the majority of the light that came through and illuminated his husband below him, and it made him look more ethereal than usual, even without his clan’s signature white robes. The rest of the light came from the small candle lit on their bedside table, providing an almost-miniscule amount of golden light that added warmth alongside.

Wei Wuxian slowly peeled himself from his husband’s back, hissing at the sudden lack of warmth to his front, and judging by the disgruntled noise his partner made he was likely missing the warmth as well. Even though he didn’t particularly want to move any farther from Lan Zhan than he already had, he still removed himself the rest of the way to rustle in a nearby drawer for a rag. Gently, he took the rag and wiped it along Lan Zhan’s inner thighs and backside, cleaning him off the best he could since he didn’t believe either of them wanted to try for a bath at this moment. He cleaned off himself, before depositing the rag somewhere onto the floor where in the morning one of them would put it in with the rest of the laundry.

Wei Wuxian climbed back onto the bed, and gingerly straddled his husband’s hips, careful to not put too much of his weight down since he knew Lan Zhan was likely going to be sore in the morning from tonight’s… activities. Not having expected this development, Lan Zhan opened his eyes and peered at his partner with his arms acting like a pillow to support his head. Wei Wuxian smiled, and leaned forward to place a sweet kiss to the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth, and he laughed when he felt Lan Zhan try and turn his head more to fully capture Wei Wuxian’s lips, but couldn’t due to his position.

Over the time they’ve spent together Wei Wuxian had gotten pretty good at reading Lan Zhan’s minute facial expressions, and so he was able to see the simple question in his eyes, “What are you doing?”

Wei Wuxian gathered up Lan Zhan’s long hair, sifting his fingers through the inky strands and separating it into three roughly equal portions before he shrugged in response to the question. He pulled Lan Zhan’s hair into a loose braid, and as he didn’t have anything have anything to tie it off with --his own red ribbon was lost somewhere in the room, and he wasn’t going to use the Lan forehead ribbon; that just felt… disrespectful, to some degree, though they’d used that ribbon for worse things than to keep hair together-- he just swept it off of Lan Zhan’s shoulders, letting it hang loose off to the side.

“I just… wanted to look at you,” he admitted, voice surprisingly quiet so as not to disturb their bubble of peace. He traced one particularly nasty gash that ran diagonally from Lan Zhan’s left shoulder to his right side with a fingertip, and he felt the muscles in Lan Zhan’s back shift and stiffen under his touch. Wei Wuxian flattened his palm, thumb rubbing gently as a means of comfort, and soon the muscles relaxed once more. 

He continued that same pattern; trailing his fingers along and on top of the myriad of scars that he could see, memorizing the feel of them under his fingertips and their positions on his husband’s back. At the beginning, his touch was very light, almost afraid as if he was going to reopen the wounds without meaning to and find blood on his hands ( Not like it would be the first time, his thoughts taunted, and he physically shook his head to rid himself of the notion).

The more he kept with the ministrations, the more sure his touch grew. He was still gentle, as he knew that wounds like these must’ve taken a long time to heal, but over time he let the callused pads of his fingers drag along the skin as he studied his husband’s back. All the while, his touch remained reverent, his mind wandering at some points to imagine how or where he got some of the less obvious scars.

There was a scar along his right side --a very clean cut by the looks of it, and not too terribly big or deep, but still visible-- and Wei Wuxian tapped it twice with his finger. “How’d you get this one?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes had closed again at some point; they reopened at the question. “Lan Jingyi, during a night hunt,” he mumbled, mouth half-covered by one of his arms. Normally sharp, golden eyes appeared slightly bleary with sleep. Wei Wuxian decided to save that story for a later time; there was a time and a place for little stories like that, and he wants to hear it with Lan Jingyi around just to see the poor kid turn red from embarrassment at the fact that he injured the Hanguang Jun (the kid was way too fun to tease). So, Wei Wuxian returned his attention back to the expanse of skin below him. 

Unintentionally, his gaze kept returning to the biggest scar that ran across the middle of Lan Zhan’s back. For how bad the damage must have been in the aftermath, for how much pain physical and emotional he had to have endured, for the sake of even this one scar… it was a miracle that he healed as well as he did.

Something lodged itself in Wei Wuxian’s throat. With a shaky exhale, he leaned forward and pressed a tender, albeit featherlight, kiss to the very center of the scar, over his spine. He feels more than he hears Lan Zhan startle beneath him, his back going rigid as the muscles are pulled taut.

The action was unconscious, but like with everything he did Wei Wuxian refused to backtrack. He pressed another gentle kiss to that scar before he moved on to the rest, laying kiss after kiss, affection after affection to each individual scar that lined his husband’s back. He took his time in doing so, letting his lips linger on warm skin before moving to the next. Wei Wuxian had lost count of how many kisses he placed on the plane of Lan Zhan’s back, and eventually at a scar that crossed over his shoulderblade did Lan Zhan finally speak up, something… almost guarded in his voice.

“Wei Ying, why are you doing this?”

At first, he didn’t respond. He hovered over Lan Zhan’s back as he tried to think of what to say, before eventually he placed another kiss to the nearest bit of skin underneath his mouth.

“You,” he drawled, half-speaking into Lan Zhan’s back, “are a very selfless man.” He could feel Lan Zhan’s gaze boring into him, intense and whole-hearted from where he was looking over his shoulder, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew that if he did, anything he’d want to say would die on his tongue. It may have been cowardly, to not look his husband in the eye as he spoke, but if that was the case then so be it. 

Wei Wuxian had already died once, and had left too many things unsaid. He didn’t want to repeat those mistakes. Not with the man who played Inquiry for him every night for thirteen years, searching for answers that he would never receive. Not with the man who took in a son that wasn’t his own and raised him as if he was, from a clan that was responsible for the burning of his only home and for the indirect downfall of the man he now called “husband.” Not with the man who stood by and defended someone who didn’t ( and still doesn’t, his mind spat) deserve the companionship, the love that he now got. 

So, onwards he went.

“I know the Gusu Lan sect’s rules prohibit you from being arrogant and selfish and whatever else I’m not remembering, but you deserve to hear the praise,” he moved a little bit, and kissed the skin there - the very tip of a scar over the right side of his rib cage. “My wonderful, handsome, beautiful husband-- he does so much for others and little-to-nothing for himself. He deserves to be spoiled every once in a while, it won’t kill him.”

Wei Wuxian’s palms rested at Lan Zhan’s sides, his fingers laying overtop his ribs. He could feel every rise and fall of Lan Zhan’s chest, and he felt the way his usually-calm breathing turned rigid and measured so as to keep himself under control.

“Really, I don’t think he knows just how much he does for other people. I don’t think he needs me to spell out what he’s done to garner the attention, but he needs to know that he… that he doesn’t have to always sacrifice himself for others’ sakes.” He laughed a rueful laugh as he realized just how hypocritical that sounded coming from himself of all people, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat.

He leaned up to Lan Zhan’s ear, his lips nearly touching the shell, “Can you roll over for me?” Lan Zhan nodded, and Wei Wuxian kissed Lan Zhan’s ear before getting off of him. Lan Zhan did as was asked, and not a moment too soon was Wei Wuxian sat atop his hips once more. He allowed himself to look his husband in the eye, and the first thing he noticed was how sharp they were, all traces of sleep from earlier now gone.

Like this Lan Zhan could plant his hands at Wei Wuxian’s hips, thumbs skimming along the bones there. Wei Wuxian smiled, and even though he’d rather take his husband’s face in his hands and kiss him proper, he hadn’t yet finished examining his lover’s body like he silently promised to do.

His eyes drifted down to Lan Zhan’s chest, and the first scar he was greeted with was the one that laid directly over his lover’s heart - the Wen brand. Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows furrowed, and he brought a hand to the scar. He kept his touch light and fleeting over the ridged flames lining the outside, for he feared if he pressed down any harder he would be burned anew ( You’d deserve it, comes the vicious whisper). It was so long ago now, and even in a different body he could vividly recall the memory of himself shoving Mianmian out of the way and the feeling of taking the brand for himself so she wouldn’t have to.

How time has flown.

Wei Wuxian bent down, and kissed the very center of the sun. He wasn’t surprised to feel the warmth underneath his lips; his husband was white jade, the twilight to his dawn, crisp and pristine to the point that people thought of him as cold and aloof. To a degree they weren’t wrong, but what they saw only reflected a fraction of the man that he actually was - the fact that he was still human, with a beating, bleeding heart.

He heard Lan Zhan’s breath hitch above him, and his husband’s hands had moved up to his shoulders, urging him upwards. Wei Wuxian went with him, allowing himself to be pulled until he hovered nose-to-nose with his love. Lan Zhan’s lovely, light, golden eyes had turned molten and shiny with unshed tears, his expression nothing short of complete adoration.

Wei Wuxian cradled his husband’s face in his hands, sweeping his thumb under his eyes and over elegant cheekbones.

“Really,” he whispered. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you really are made of jade. So handsome, so beautiful, so pretty, my wonderful Lan Zhan.” In his periphery he noticed the tinge of red on Lan Zhan’s earlobes, and delightedly he peppered kisses all over Lan Zhan’s face; his cheeks, his eyebrows, his forehead, the bridge of his nose and then the tip. Last, and certainly not least, he brought his lips to Lan Zhan’s own. He let himself hang in the air for just a moment, his lips only the faintest brush against Lan Zhan’s before he pressed forward for a slow, languid kiss.

He had no clue how long they stayed there, simply enjoying one another’s presence in the unhurried nighttime of the Cloud Recesses. Eventually, however, they did part, tilting their foreheads together as they shared breath in the miniscule space between them. One of Lan Zhan’s hands moved to cup his jaw, and Wei Wuxian nuzzled into the touch, turning briefly to kiss Lan Zhan’s thumb. They stared at each other, neither daring to break the silence, and Wei Wuxian turned again to place another kiss to his love’s palm.

“I’ll be honest, Lan Zhan, sometimes I don’t think I deserve your love,” is the first thing Wei Wuxian said, after who-knows-how-long of contented silence. He saw the alarm in his eyes, and he quickly kissed Lan Zhan’s thumb again as an apology. “It’s not all the time! I can’t help it - you got hurt for me, because of me, even if you took the punishments willingly, and you’ve continued to come under fire by allying yourself with me, the Yiling Patriarch.”

“I do not mind--” Lan Zhan whispered, before he was interrupted by one of Wei Wuxian’s fingers gently shushing him, and Wei Wuxian smiled.

“I know you don’t, and I am eternally grateful for that, for you . You do so much for me, and for others; you deserve the recognition, and the praise,” he said, and he huffed out a laugh. “Lan Zhan ah Lan Zhan, this sounds silly but I just… don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness or anything. I know you said there was no need for I’m-sorrys or thank-yous between us, and I agree! We’ve been together for too long, been through too much, it isn’t really necessary anymore, but… you deserve the thank-yous, and the I’m-sorrys. For all you do, you deserve that and much more.”

Slowly, he let one of his hands trail down from his husband’s face to lay on top of the Wen brand, on top of his heart, on top of his heart that burned white-hot because the only way he knew how to love was with his entire being and nothing less. Under his palm, he felt the steady, thrumming beat of Lan Zhan’s heart, and he felt a lump start to form in his throat (honestly, he was surprised it didn’t start up earlier - Wei Wuxian wasn’t too quick to cry, but being this raw even with his husband was still difficult).

“I love you. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts, that sometimes it scares me, but I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything else,” both hands cradled his husband’s face once more, refusing to let go. “Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian prattled off, punctuating his words with gentle, loving kisses to Lan Zhan’s mouth. “My jade, my moon, the father to our son, my love, my husband, my soulmate,” he continued, until eventually he placed one long, lasting kiss and separated, leaning their foreheads together once more.

“I love you, my Lan Zhan,” he whispered. “So much. And I’m forever grateful that you’ve done all that you’ve done for me, that you’ve stayed by my side given all that I’ve done, and that you still stay by my side and put up with me.” Lan Zhan’s tears finally spill over, leaking warm trails down to his temples and onto Wei Wuxian’s fingers. Despite that, he managed a small, wobbly smile, shaking his head gently.

“Not put up with,” he murmured. “I want to stay by Wei Ying’s side, as long as I can.”

“Even when I stay up until dawn researching and making new talismans and you have to drag me to bed? Even when I talk your ear off on night hunts and tell terrible jokes and embarrass you in front of the juniors? Even when I--” his rambling was interrupted by a kiss and Wei Wuxian happily reciprocated, laughing all the while.  “Even then,” Lan Zhan mumbled when they parted, and Wei Wuxian’s mirth simmered down into something softer. With delicate touches, he wiped around his love’s eyes and temples with his thumbs, doing his best to remove any remaining tears and their tracks. He bent down to place one last kiss to his husband’s mouth before said-husband so rudely yawned, making that action rather hard to complete. He snickered.

“Is Lan Zhan sleepy? Ah, you Lans and your rigid sleep schedule,” Wei Wuxian lamented, flopping onto Lan Zhan’s chest. Lan Zhan gave an affectionate eye roll before he brought his index finger and thumb to his mouth, licking them before he reached over to extinguish the candle’s flame. Wei Wuxian hummed, snuggling his head under his love’s chin and turning his head so his ear laid flat against his chest.

“I love you,” Wei Wuxian muttered, the easy rise-and-fall of Lan Zhan’s breathing quickly lulling him to sleep. Lan Zhan pressed a lazy kiss to the crown of his head.

“Mn. Love you too,” he whispered back, one of his hands loosely resting on Wei Wuxian’s hip while the other grabbed the blanket that was shoved aside and throwing it over them both. It didn’t take long for Lan Zhan to drift off to sleep, and Wei Wuxian puffed out a laugh when he heard the famous Hanguang-jun snoring softly.

“See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan,” was the last thought Wei Wuxian had before he followed his husband in sleep, with a gentle smile never leaving his face.