Wei Wuxian tip-toed around the walkway of the Lan library pavilion, keeping an eye out for any of the junior disciples who might turn up to ambush him with questions about how to actually tell the difference between a spirit and a monster, in the field, if no one knew the creature’s origin, or the best footwork for long distance leaps, or how to draw multiple arrows without fouling the fletching. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy teaching them things. He did! And if Lan Qiren was in ear-shot, the constipated look resulting from a conflict of “he’s contaminating my disciples” and “thank the heavens they’re bothering someone else with that” was high quality entertainment. It was just that he was hoping to find Lan Zhan, today, and having the kids around put some limits on how enthusiastically he was comfortable greeting his lover.
Not many, but some.
Finally he made it to the door uncaught, darted through it, and closed it firmly behind him, throwing the inner lock. “Safe!”
Lan Zhan looked up from the writing table where he was taking notes from one of the older scrolls, brows rising silently.
Wei Wuxian grinned, just a little sheepish. “I wanted to come see you without the juniors interrupting.”
Lan Zhan smiled faintly and held out a hand to him. “Come, then.”
Wei Wuxian stepped quietly through the soft, bright silence of the library and slid down to his knees beside Lan Zhan, reaching out to close his hands around Lan Zhan’s face and kiss him, slow and deep, taking his time about tasting the corners of Lan Zhan’s mouth. He made a pleased sound into their kiss when Lan Zhan’s arms wrapped around him, drawing him in closer. “I was missing you,” he murmured against Lan Zhan’s lips.
Lan Zhan’s lips curved. “And I you.”
Wei Wuxian drew back enough to give the scrolls and notes and brushes spread neatly across the writing table a significant look. “You’re sure?” he teased.
“Shall I demonstrate?” Lan Zhan asked, quite calmly, and Wei Wuxian leaned against him, laughing softly.
“I didn’t actually want to interrupt. Much.”
Long fingers slid into his hair and drew him back down to another kiss, this one fiercer, heated. “You are not an interruption,” Lan Zhan said firmly, when he let Wei Wuxian go.
A little breathless from the heat of the kiss, Wei Wuxian settled beside him, smiling. “Okay, then.”
Lan Zhan gave him a rather considering, sidelong look, and started to stack his scrolls and notes off to one side. The warmth of knowing he had so much of Lan Zhan’s regard and attention spread through Wei Wuxian’s chest, but he couldn’t help a tiny twinge of guilt also. “I really didn’t mean to—” Lan Zhan touched two fingers to his lips, hushing him, and kissed him again, gentle.
“You are never an interruption,” he repeated, quiet and certain.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian reached out to wind himself around Lan Zhan. His lover’s surety loosened some small, tight thing, deep inside him. Lan Zhan held him close, one hand moving slowly up and down his back, until Wei Wuxian managed to ease the tightness of his hold.
And then he set Wei Wuxian back a little and began undressing him.
“What…?” Wei Wuxian laughed, eyes wide. “Lan Zhan, seriously?” He went willingly enough when Lan Zhan tugged his robes off and started on his underthings, but a significant part of his mind was still trying to fit Lan Zhan together with sex in the library pavilion and having some difficulty doing it.
“Hands demonstrate more clearly than words,” Lan Zhan said, as imperturbable as ever if you didn’t notice the faint crinkle of amusement at the corners of his eyes. Wei Wuxian figured he was laughing for both of them, though hopefully not too loud, because he definitely didn’t want to be interrupted at this point. When Lan Zhan had him down to bare skin and he had, at least, managed to get rid of Lan Zhan’s sashes and untie his under-robe, Lan Zhan caught his hands and kissed him again, slowly, until Wei Wuxian’s laughter quieted into soft, approving sounds against Lan Zhan’s mouth. When Lan Zhan’s hands on his shoulders urged him to turn, he did so reluctantly, nipping at Lan Zhan’s lower lip as he drew slowly back.
When Lan Zhan pressed him down, and he realized he was being bent over the writing table, his breath left him completely on a gasp that was half arousal and half shock. Everything sharpened abruptly in his senses: the bright, shadowless light of the pavilion; the silky smoothness of the dark wood under his chest and shoulders and palms; the scent of ink and paper from Lan Zhan’s notes; the warmth of Lan Zhan’s hands smoothing down his back as if he were a folio Lan Zhan wanted to spread out across the table. “Lan Zhan,” he breathed, husky. He was hardening just from being touched with such slow care.
Silk whispered against his skin as Lan Zhan bent over him, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, open robes falling around him. “You are most precious to me,” Lan Zhan said softly, against his skin, and pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades. “Of all things,” and another, to the small of his back, “the most precious.”
Wei Wuxian made a wordless, yearning sound, in answer. He never had words for what he felt, when Lan Zhan spoke like this, but want was definitely a part of it. Anticipation wound through him, hot and heavy, as Lan Zhan’s palms stroked down his body, over his hips and down his thighs, parting them wider, until Wei Wuxian was completely spread out across the writing table. Only then did slick fingers stroke between his cheeks and shape slow, hard circles over his entrance, until he was spread open there, too, laid so completely open for Lan Zhan that it stole his breath.
Lan Zhan leaned down over him to murmur against his ear, “I’ve thought about this before.”
The simple words, and the thought that Lan Zhan had thought about it here, thought about it often enough to be prepared, swept such a wave of heat through Wei Wuxian that his toes curled and he arched over the table, pushing back into Lan Zhan’s touch. “Lan Zhan,” he moaned.
Broad, calloused hands ran gently up his body. “Slowly?” Lan Zhan asked, and the want in that low voice was enough to ease Wei Wuxian back into quiet, relaxing against the smooth, polished wood.
“Yeah,” he said, husky. “Okay.” A shiver stroked up his spine as Lan Zhan’s hands closed on his ass and spread him, and he relaxed into it, lips parting at the slow press of Lan Zhan’s cock against his entrance. “Oh…” It was slow but steady, and the stretch of his body opening up around the thickness of Lan Zhan’s cock felt like it might not ever end.
It felt amazing.
By the time Lan Zhan was all the way in, Wei Wuxian was more sprawled than relaxed over the table, panting for breath. “Lan Zhan…”
The same breathlessness was in Lan Zhan’s voice. “Slowly, my heart.”
As if Wei Wuxian wouldn’t let him do anything he wanted, when Lan Zhan called him that. Lan Zhan was waiting for him, though, so he mustered a fervent, “Yes.”
Lan Zhan’s hands spread against the writing table to either side of him, and he moved slowly over Wei Wuxian, rocking in and out of him, white robes whispering around them in the bright stillness of the library. The slow slide of Lan Zhan inside him, filling him over and over again, swept pleasure down his nerves in ripples, like the waves of a lake against the shore, and Wei Wuxian moved with him, lost in the sensation.
“Lan Zhan,” he moaned, eyes half closed with the heat winding tighter through him, “you feel so good.”
“Good.” Lan Zhan’s voice was husky. His hands slid up Wei Wuxian’s arms and over his back. “I dreamed of having you like this. All the strength and beauty of you in my hands again.”
The burst of want and delight that answered pushed Wei Wuxian right over the edge he hadn’t even realized he was so close to, and he groaned as pleasure flashed through him, sweet and sharp, wringing him out around the harness of Lan Zhan’s cock inside him. The velvety sound of Lan Zhan’s moan swept another wave over him, and he shuddered as Lan Zhan’s hands closed tight on his hips and Lan Zhan drove deep into him.
Slowly, the hot rush of pleasure eased and they stilled together, Lan Zhan’s hands stroking up and down his back again. Wei Wuxian made a pleased sound. He thought Lan Zhan had probably figured out how much he liked just being touched and petted. He didn’t protest when those hands urged him upright, because Lan Zhan also gathered him in and held him, open robes draped around them both as Lan Zhan settled back. He lounged contentedly against Lan Zhan, and grinned at his faint huff of laughter.
“What was it you came here for?” Lan Zhan asked, at last, fingers sliding through Wei Wuxian’s hair.
“Oh right!” He straightened, though not enough to take him out of Lan Zhan’s arms. “I found something in Paths of Light that made it sound like re-cultivating a Golden Core might have happened before!”
Lan Zhan looked at him, brows ever so faintly raised.
“Well, yes, I know Lu the Younger makes all kinds of ridiculous claims, but he wasn’t saying he did it, so it’s a possibility.”
“Who then?” Lan Zhan asked, tucking a strand of Wei Wuxian’s hair back.
Wei Wuxian leaned into his hand, smiling. “Hong Ming.”
“We have some of her writings.”
“Thought you might.” Wei Wuxian leaned in to kiss him, and reached for his clothes. Once they were put back together enough that Wei Wuxian would be willing to unlock the door again, Lan Zhan laid both hands on his shoulders, stilling him.
“Even if there is no precedent, there can be no doubt of what is happening.”
Warmth curled through Wei Wuxian, softening his smile, softening his whole body as he leaned against Lan Zhan, arms draped over his shoulders. “I know. It isn’t that. It’s just…” His mouth quirked. “Wen Qing would absolutely kill me, if I didn’t document this as thoroughly as possible, if she were still around. I owe her so much, the least I can do for her memory is this.” He saw the flash of disagreement, or perhaps anger, in how Lan Zhan’s eyes narrowed for just a moment, and shook his head, kissing Lan Zhan again, slow and coaxing. “She concealed us from her own clan, when we had to run. Remember that part, too.”
Lan Zhan made a noncommittal sound and gathered him in closer, holding him tight. Wei Wuxian smiled and snuggled close, resting his temple against Lan Zhan’s. If this was the reassurance Lan Zhan wanted, he was more than happy to provide it. They stood together in the quiet light of the library for some time before Lan Zhan’s hold on him eased. Wei Wuxian straightened and dropped a kiss on Lan Zhan’s nose. “Love you.”
Lan Zhan’s mouth curved faintly. “Will you let me take care of you?” he asked, quiet, not pressing, and Wei Wuxian had to take a quick breath against the sharp claw of remorse that raked through him. He’d been so stubborn, back then, not paying as much attention as he could, just because he’d thought he shouldn’t have to, with a friend. He cupped Lan Zhan’s cheek, thumb tracing Lan Zhan’s cheekbone. “I will,” he said, low and serious, “I promise.”
Lan Zhan’s smile blossomed for a breath, sweet and warm, and he laid his hand over Wei Wuxian’s. “Hong Ming’s works are in the east shelves.”
Wei Wuxian laced their fingers together, smiling back, bright with the happiness inside him. “Let’s go see.”
This time, they would do better.